Saving Grace
by Sophie9
Summary: A girl on the brink of disaster discovers what really matters and what happens when you can slip into the Camden's reality
1. Default Chapter

The Camden family and their stories were created and came into existence on our tv screens due to the imagination of many. That being, the story of the Camdens exists in a world of imagination separate from every day reality. This is what happens when one girl's imagination and reality collides with theirs.  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
Grace arrived on the doorstep exhausted, yet feeling relaxed and safe finally. She rang the bell, and stepped back, only then realizing that no one inside the house knew who she was or why she was there.  
  
Uh oh.  
  
The door opened then, and Grace was face to face with Lucy Camden.  
  
"Lucy!" She smiled and let out a sigh of relief.  
  
Lucy cocked an eyebrow, and looked steadily at her. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"  
  
Grace's mouth dropped open. Oops. She frowned. "Well, not exactly, really not at all." She shook her head to clear away any apprehension, after all she had nowhere else to go. This had to work. It had to.  
  
"I'm here to see your mother, Mrs. Camden."  
  
"Oh." Still obviously confused she stepped back and opened the door further, motioning her in. "Well, come on in."  
  
Grace stepped into the house she'd seen so many times before, and felt at home instantly. This is so much better than being home, she thought.  
  
Lucy nodded to the couch. "Just have a seat, I'll go get my mom."  
  
Grace felt butterflies in her stomach as she stepped into the room and neared the couch. Did she dare sit? She couldn't stand to lose it all after all the work she'd gone thru to get there.  
  
With a deep breath she sat, and saw that Lucy was already halfway up the stairs.  
  
"Oh, Lucy," she called feeling giddy that she'd said it out loud as if she really did belong there, "you Mom probably won't know who I am, or maybe she will, I don't know. Just tell her I need her help."  
  
She heard Lucy's footsteps stop on one stair and could almost feel her confusion take on a physical presence. Don't worry, Grace told herself, you'll get to explain it all to her soon.  
  
"Uh, okay," the response came back hesitant and weak.  
  
And then she realized, oh man! I didn't even tell her my name! She closed her eyes shaking her head; mentally reliving all the other mistakes she'd made that week.  
  
"Hi."  
  
Grace looked up startled. Mary Camden was standing in front of her, dressed in workout gear, with a basketball at her hip.  
  
"Um, hi," she smiled weakly. What if this doesn't work? What if they send me home? She forced a more confident smile. "I'm Grace, I'm here to see your Mom."  
  
Mary shrugged. "Oh." She seemed to re think something. "Uh, would you like something to drink?"  
  
She was about to say no thank you, after all, she didn't want to be rude, but what the heck? If she had to return to her regular hellish life, she'd at least have something in her stomach. Might as well take advantage of little niceties while she still could. "I wouldn't mind some water," she answered, thinking that would seem the least demanding.  
  
"Water?" She seemed surprised.  
  
Yes, water, her mind told her, just water.  
  
"Yeah," she answered. "It's good for you." She smiled then and it was a comfortable smile, unforced.  
  
"Okay," Mary smiled back and turned back to the kitchen. "I'll be right back."  
  
She watched Mrs. Camden walk down the stairs moments after Mary'd left the room. She found herself nearly shaking with fear, but was unable to do anything to stop it. She could only hope that somehow Mrs. Camden would know. With as much hoping, praying and wishing, if someone needed something, someone so badly, that person which was needed would have to know it, sense it somehow, didn't they? She just had to know, somehow, how much Grace needed her. Certainly her need for the family, every one of them was so strong, it just couldn't go unnoticed.  
  
Mrs. Camden stepped into the room, and smiling genuinely, warmly extended her hand to Grace.  
  
She doesn't even know me, she thought and she's nice. As she took Mrs. Camden's hand in turn her elation faded, as she thought, what if she doesn't know it? What'll I do? There's nowhere else for me to go.  
  
"Hi, I'm Annie Camden."  
  
The woman continued to smile as she sat down and asked, "What can I do for you?" Her smile was so confident, so honestly happy; Grace just couldn't get over it. It was unbelievable. The woman was so strong and in control of her life, so content and secure and unafraid. So completely opposite of Grace.  
  
Instead of answering, she just stared at her in awe, her mouth agape. She blinked, and tried to take in, suck in, all the safety, love and security she felt at that moment. All these things Mrs. Camden emanated.  
  
Mrs. Camden stared at her, then laughed a small laugh, shaking her head. "I've completely forgotten myself! Are you hungry?" She laughed again and looked at Grace. "Why do I even ask- you're a teenager- I've got two girls about your age- so I know you're hungry." She stood up and turned back to her again, "Would you like some cookies?"  
  
Grace stared at her in complete disbelief. Annie Camden was so opposite from her mother, from the parental figures that were around her everyday, Mrs. Camden could have been from Mars and it wouldn't have seemed any more bizarre. Then she gulped. Of course she was hungry. But instead of an answer, all she could get out was,  
  
"Uhh.."  
  
She swallowed again and closed her mouth, suddenly afraid Mrs. Camden would leave her, and knowing that what Mrs. Camden possessed was far more substantial than food. Mrs. Camden already had her back to Grace and was walking to the kitchen. Suddenly Grace found her voice and called after her  
  
"Wait!"  
  
She was shaking again as Mrs. Camden turned around and headed back to the couch with a worried look in her eyes.  
  
Grace let out a breath as Annie sat back down and found herself unable to meet Mrs. Camden's gaze any longer.  
  
"I..," she began. "I wa-", she stopped her mind spinning. I want, she was going to say, but want what? Why was she really there? Could she really say?  
  
Annie had moved somehow so that it was impossible for Grace to avoid her eyes. Grace looked at her again, then around at the house, every item and everything spoke of a strong love, of care, she couldn't help but think how instantly at ease she felt there, even from the moment she walked in the door. Then she remembered fully why she was there. Her eyes grew wide and damp.  
  
"I wanna stay here!" She blurted the words out, saying her true heart's desire, her need for a place like this. "Please?" I can't go home. Don't make me go home!"  
  
Utter despair seized her as thoughts of her home came to her I can't go back there, I just can't! Unable to control herself she started sobbing.  
  
The next instant she immediately felt strong arms around her. Not an obligatory embrace, or a forced one, but an honest caring one. The arms spoke of a person who lived for others, and loved to share their joys, as much as being needed to comfort them. Annie's arms held her, shielded her, the way a person who loves another will. Grace sank all her weight, her fatigue into Annie, as she was suddenly exhausted, unable to hold up under the weight of her life.  
  
"I can't go back there!" She sobbed. "I'll die!" I can't go!"  
  
"It's alright," Annie spoke softly. "No one's going to make you go anywhere."  
  
Grace could feel eyes on her, knowing it had to be Mary and Lucy, but she didn't care. She swallowed a sob and sniffled, saying, "I know people like me must come to you all the time, and you're sick of it. but, it wouldn't happen if," she choked back another sob, "if you all weren't so nice."  
  
Grace felt a body plop down on the couch next to her, and then another plop. Mary and Lucy, she knew, but didn't bother to leave Annie's embrace to acknowledge them.  
  
"It's okay," she heard Mary's voice at her shoulder. "No one will make you go anywhere. If you're safe here, don't worry, my mom and dad won't let you go back to a place that isn't."  
  
She felt her body relax then, hearing the assurance of safety was almost better than caring.  
  
"Yeah," Lucy added, "don't worry, there's always plenty of room here."  
  
Grace grinned widely. And finally, she thought, somewhere I'm wanted. That was the best thing of all.  
  
Grace sighed in relief and opened her eyes, lifting her head up to meet the eyes she was certain were staring at her. Plus, she still had to get that glass of water from Mary.  
  
She smiled, and blinked, then her face fell in utter despair. The only things to meet her eyes were the posters on her wall, and the moon shining into her bedroom window. Her face crumpling back into sadness, Grace threw her face into her pillow and cried. "Great," she moaned, "I get the family from hell, the only place I could ever get love and attention really is in my dreams!"  
  
CHAPTER 2  
  
Grace sat at the table, staring at the crowded lunchroom, with tables full of laughing talking students, their faces bright, the cares of the day gone, if only for a while. Friends talking, eating, laughing. Friends that she knew, took classes with, had co-habited with for years, classmates, but none of them were her friends. And so she sat at her table, alone, trying to act as though her History book, and her sandwich were absolutely engrossing her interest. That no causal observer would guess that she was sad, that she wanted to belong, was lonely, and that she felt pained in being shunned.  
  
It'd been this way for years. Alone at the lunch table, alone in the classroom, last to be picked for sports in gym class, and never included in funny jokes or conversations in class. Invited to girl's birthday parties because parents forced their daughters, not because she was wanted. But, now that they were all older, girls didn't have to invite her, because no one had to listen to their parents anymore. Most parents had forgotten about Grace Foster, even her own. So, she had no parties to go to. She was alone, and had grown tired of being a loner by necessity. Now she was just lonely.  
  
With a long sigh she stared out blankly at the scene in front of her. Even the teachers seemed to take pity on her, being the odd one out can't be hidden for long. Grace felt that pain daily. She tried to fit in, and was as cordial as ever, but the stigma of a bad first day didn't wash off easily in this crowd, or ever. In a line up she was nearly indistinguishable, the same hairstyle, clothes, makeup. The only difference was internal. She drew her book to her face, so that no one could see, and closed her eyes, blocking everything out.  
  
"Lucy! Hurry up! You'll be late for school!"  
  
Grace heard Mrs. Camden's voice calling.  
  
"Coming!"  
  
She was shocked to find herself on the stairway, then suddenly saw Lucy hurrying towards her. Grace backed up on the stairs to let her past.  
  
Lucy stared at her as surprised to see her there, as Grace was to be there. "Oh!" She stared at her with a confused look, and then smiled. "I didn't know you were here!"  
  
She pinched her mouth together, cocked her head sideways, then laughed and shook her head.  
  
"It doesn't matter, I'm glad to see you!" She exclaimed. She nodded to her backpack and hurried down the rest of the stairs. "I got up late," she explained.  
  
As she'd jumped back out of the way, she found herself in the kitchen, with was already buzzing with activity. Mrs. Camden, Ruthie, Simon and Lucy filled the room with their activeness.  
  
"Grace!" Annie smiled. "I didn't know we'd be seeing you this morning."  
  
"Uh," she shrugged, neither did I."  
  
Ruthie came up, not missing a beat, and seemingly unbothered by Grace's sudden presence. "Toast?" She held it up. "I put jelly on it for you."  
  
"Uh, sure, thanks." She took the pieces and smiled.  
  
Lucy gathered some toast herself and said with a mouthful, "You're coming with us, right? TO school?" She swallowed her mouthful, wide-eyed and curious.  
  
Annie nodded approvingly, "You can, if you want. Mary's driving."  
  
"Well, I didn't bring my books or anything-"  
  
Lucy shook her head, "That's okay, you can be my visitor. Don't worry, none of the teachers'll give you a test or anything."  
  
"Come on, it'll be fun," Ruthie smiled.  
  
Her eyes met Simons' and he nodded at her. "Why not? At least you won't get homework."  
  
Grace relaxed and laughed. "Okay, why not?"  
  
Soon she was navigating the halls with Lucy, talking and laughing with her friends,walking past groups of kids, and for once not feeling as if everyone were staring at her, thinking how much of an outcast she was. It was a relief.  
  
"First today is homeroom," Lucy was unpacking her backpack, and checking her hair in the small mirror in her locker. She was giddy, obviously glad to have someone to show her school, and her life off to. "It's pretty easy," she continued, "all we do is sit and talk, pretty much."  
  
Grace nodded. "Cool."  
  
Lucy slammed the locker door shut and turned back to Grace. "We'd better hurry up, or we'll be late."  
  
Lucy's excitement was infectious. Grace couldn't help but be excited as well.  
  
A loud buzzing made Grace jump. Her eyes flew open and she gasped realizing she'd been sitting all that time, and that lunch was over.  
  
Wondering if anyone'd noticed her absence, she slammed her book shut and jumped up, anxious to look as normal as possible.  
  
In the halls she passed and made eye contact with dozens of students she knew. Most of which she'd known since elementary school. She knew tons of tiny details about their lives, just from observing and remembering. Like, who wet the bed at slumber parties, who'd broken her arm, who'd cried when she wasn't elected class president, who cried when he didn't get a place on the football team. But no one knew a thing about her, or bothered to care. To them she was the same as she'd been back then. Quiet, out of place, unworthy of notice.  
  
Sighing, Grace entered the combination for her lock, and swung the locker door open. She tried to gather her books up and check her hair with as much energy as Lucy had. She had to plaster on a fake smile though, and it only lasted a moment. She didn't have the energy to be fake.  
  
I wish you could see my life, Luce, she thought.


	2. 3

"Hey! I was watching that!" The remote control was snatched from her.  
  
"Like I give a shit?" He shoved her backward with his hand to her forehead.  
  
"Quit it!"  
  
"What are you gonna do about it?" He punched her hard. "Huh?"  
  
Grace jumped to her feet, feeling ill, ready to defend herself as well as she could- which never quite worked out to be well enough. In fact, it never worked at all. "Why do you always have to be such an asshole?" She had her shoulder turned to him, to absorb the shock of a blow, should he decide to punch her again.  
  
"Oh, you're gonna talk big now?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Geez, you're in high school, almost a senior- and you still act like a five year old!" He kicked her hard in the shin, making her fall to the floor and sending shooting pains up her entire leg. She clentched her teeth and sat there, refusing to make a sound, staring hard at her brother.  
  
She glared at him as he switched the station from 7th Heaven to wrestling and sat down. Furious to the point of tears at the injustice of it all, she stood up and as a come back to her injury added, "Instead of being mature, you're actually act worse than a five year old. They know how to control their impulses better than you, they don't snatch toys from other people and they can do things without being selfish or whining and crying about it like a big baby. You, however, cannot."  
  
Jason spun around and jumped to his feet.  
  
Grace bolted from the room, running as fast as she could to her bedroom. She slammed the door and locked it in the nick of time, then fell to the floor, bracing the door with her body weight. She knew he could break the door down, he'd done it before, but at least the door between them gave her some measure of security, even if it was fake.  
  
"You're gonna get it for that bitch! I'm gonna kick your ass! Just wait till you get out of there! You're gonna fuckin' get it!"  
  
"Grace! What the hell did you do this time?"  
  
The screeching voice of her mother came through the door, sounding far away. She's probably sitting in the kitchen, Grace thought, drinking as usual. "You leave your brother alone! He didn't do anything to you!"  
  
Then she heard her mutter, "Why do you always have to start a fight? Ain't that just like a girl?"  
  
She heard Jason laughing softly. Then he muttered sinisterly, "Just you wait, you think your leg hurts now?" He laughed again. "Just wait."  
  
Grace heard his footsteps move away, and heard the diolauge of the wrestling match louder.  
  
She closed her eyes and sighed, shuddering suddenly with cold. The cold of being afraid and alone, she knew it well, and hated it.  
  
She gulped and stood up slowly, being careful of her leg, and crawled into bed, wrapping the covers around her tightly in lieu of a hug.  
  
Throwing the covers over her head, so that she was in complete darkness she sobbed into her pillow.  
  
"Why can't I just live with them?"  
  
Glenoak was dark by the time she got there. The porch lights and lighted room windows gave off a comforting soft light. The streets were quite, without as much as one car rolling by. Everyone's at home by now, ready for bed or already asleep.  
  
She had to walk a few blocks before coming up to the familiar Camden residence, but the walk was good for her, she reasoned, she needed to de- stress.  
  
Still, where she was standing in front of 257 and looking up, she was scared. I can't just barge in like this! They must be getting sick of me by now. She glanced up at the darkened windows. I can't ring the bell and wake everyone up! Biting her lip, and looking at every window, she hoped to see Matt- either coming out or arriving- either way if he saw her, she'd be able to explain things, and not have to worry about being a bother to anyone else.  
  
Looking around uneasily, as she hoped none of the neighbors decided to call the cops. Finally, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly she walked up to the house, but suddenly cut away from the porch and off to the side.  
  
I hope I'm right, she thought, having made her decision. They do it on TV all the time. I just hope it's Lucy and Mary's room that it's near.  
  
Crossing her fingers and saying a silent prayer, Grace grabbed onto the trellis and looked up at the second story window it ran next to.  
  
"Please don't break," she whispered to it. Good thing I'm athletic and light, she thought, and good at climbing in gym class.  
  
She began her ascent quickly, not wanting to leave hand or foot anywhere for too long- she didn't want the thing to break under too much pressure. The trellis was made for flowers to climb, not for people. But it was wood, it had to be sturdy. At least she hoped so.  
  
The bedroom window was more clear now, and Grace could see that it was most definitely Lucy and Mary's room. Unless Matt's got some new frilly curtains that I'm not aware of, she thought, laughing quietly at her own joke. Another thought seized her in panic. Oh my gosh! What if their window's locked?  
  
"Oh no," she moaned.  
  
She was at the side of the window now. The room was dark. Geez I really hope no one can see me, she thought.  
  
Mary and Lucy, please be home.  
  
Realizing she'd break her neck if she actually tried to open the window- unlocked or locked, Grace did the only thing left for her to do, after all, it wasn't as if she could turn and run away now- especially not from two stories up- she knocked lightly on the window. Then she waited.  
  
After a short while, she was relieved, although still afraid of the reaction, when she saw Mary's face in the window.  
  
Her mouth dropped open and she stared at Grace wide- eyed. Then she threw the window open.  
  
"What are you doing out here?" she hissed. "Oh my gosh!" She reached a hand out to her. "Get in here!"  
  
She saw Lucy staring behind Mary as she climbed carefully into the bedroom.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Lucy blurted out. "What happened?"  
  
Grace bit her lip and shrugged self consciously. Lucy and Mary were both in their pajamas, and from the looks of their beds, had been asleep.  
  
"I'm sorry I woke you guys up," she pleaded. "I didn't mean to, honestly."  
  
Lucy grinned her eyes alive with excitement.  
  
"That's okay," she gushed. "We just wanna know what's going on." She sat back down on her bed, eager for the story. "Whatever it is, it must be bad."  
  
"Lucy!" Mary glared at her and shut the window.  
  
She glanced sidelong at Grace. "Sorry about that," she muttered, "she's a little dramatic."  
  
"That's okay," Grace laughed, "I know."  
  
Mary shrugged and sat down next to Lucy.  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
Grace sighed.  
  
"My brother's going to kill me," she answered.  
  
"Hey, what's going on in there?"  
  
Grace froze in terror, recognizing the voice.  
  
Lucy and Mary looked just as worried.  
  
The door opened, the light from the doorway falling onto the three girls.  
  
Grace stared, and gulped, trying to recover and find words.  
  
All she got out was an apologetic,  
  
"Hi, Mr. Camden."


	3. 4

Grace felt terrible. Barging in and disrupting this poor man's family. Disrupting everything with her life, and they didn't even know why. She'd never had a chance to explain anything. She just showed up unannounced. I ruin everything, she thought. Just by being me.  
  
She sighed and looked down at the floor, hoping either Lucy or Mary would say something.  
  
Mr. Camden's mouth opened a bit in shock and he cocked his head to the side, looking at Grace.  
  
"So," he began, in the voice of one who is trying to sound inoffensive and nonjudgmental, and patient at an hour of night when everyone should be asleep, "you're Grace?"  
  
When Mr. Camden closed his mouth she couldn't help but let out a sigh of annoyance. She didn't like being unsure of where she stood.  
  
"If you want to kick me out, just say so. Please! You don't have to pretend to like me, if you don't. I don't want anyone being fake or humoring me, I hate that."  
  
Shock registered clearly on his face, and Grace was glad. But she still didn't want to leave.  
  
"I'm sorry about being here and all, I didn't mean to wake anyone up-"  
  
"Her brother's gonna kill her!" Lucy interrupted.  
  
Grace looked over at her, surprised. Then she saw the look of righteous indignation on her face and felt comforted, cared about. Even if all Lucy really cared about was hearing the end of Grace's story.  
  
"Dad, we can't let her go home!" Mary chimed in then.  
  
Mr. Camden's face tightened in thought.  
  
"And yet," he began slowly, "and yet we don't even know where 'home' is for her," he reminded.  
  
Mary and Lucy looked at her, and she looked back at them, feeling somewhat caught. Please don't send me home, she begged silently. Just let me stay here for the night. Forever. Let me feel for one night like I belong here.  
  
She met his gaze then, saying nothing. There was nothing left to say. She couldn't plead her case, and she didn't want anyone feeling sorry for her.  
  
Mr. Camden let out a breath and looked resigned. Given in and tired. "Alright," he answered, and Grace's heart nearly stopped. "We'll save any more talk for morning.  
  
"Yippie!" Lucy squealed, falling back on the bed. As if she'd been holding her breath, anxious for the answer. And, Grace thought, she probably was.  
  
Mary looked at her and smirked.  
  
"Dramatic," they announced.  
  
Without another word, Mr. Camden closed the door, leaving the girls to their own devices.  
  
Giddy, Lucy bounced back into bed and under the covers, obviously waiting to be regaled with a thrilling story.  
  
Yeah, Grace thought wryly, for you, it's a story, for me it's life.  
  
She sighed, and realized she didn't have any-  
  
"Here ya go!"  
  
A pair of pajamas flew in front of her face. Grace quickly snatched them before they hit the floor.  
  
Well, she smiled, that solves that problem. It must be nice to be thought of, and provided for. It is nice to be thought of and provided for, she corrected herself. And I was all set to sleep in my clothes. She glanced around the room discreetly. Where AM I going to sleep?  
  
"Good reflexes," Mary muttered approvingly.  
  
"It helps," Grace explained. Helps what, she wasn't going to say.  
  
"You can sleep with me," Lucy offered beaming.  
  
Hilary laughed back, smiling. Then she let out a long sigh, contented. "It's nice to be here," she whispered.  
  
In another minute she was in bed happy to be wanted. "Thanks for letting me stay, you guys."  
  
"No problem," Mary answered. "I told you before my family won't let you go back to somewhere if it isn't safe for you."  
  
Grace yawned widely. "That's good," she mumbled and yawned again. "Safe is a thing my life is not." She yawned again, and without another word, fell into a deep unworried sleep.  
  
Grace woke up to silence; which was so bizarre she wondered if there'd been some sort of disaster she'd managed to sleep through, and the world had ended.  
  
She opened her eyes to darkness, and panicked, then realized her face was under the covers. She had to fight her way out, as she'd become incredibly tangled in her sleep.  
  
When she finally pushed free and was out "in the world" her eyes were met with bright daylight, and her ears,still, with silence. It was as if the world had gone dead.  
  
The brightness of the light told her she'd woken up late, very late, and the silence probably meant that everyone had left the house for the day, to go to school and work. She glanced over at her bedside clock.  
  
It flashed 10:30 in big red numbers.  
  
Grace threw off her covers, panicked, yet held her silence, for fear she might somehow break the magical spell she seemed to wake under. Her house was never silent.  
  
Carefully, slowly- since she was already later than late anyway, an extra hour or so wouldn't make a difference, Grace crept out of bed, and softly padded across the carpeted floor, almost holding her breath as she did so, and made her way over to the window. She parted the vertical blinds ever so slightly, so that she could just see out. There were no cars in the driveway, and silence in the house. It was like one of those Christmas movies, she thought, where the kid wakes up and looks out on mounds of snow, and knows he has tons of presents waiting for him downstairs as well.  
  
Silence and solitude were presents enough for her.  
  
While she was lonely and excluded at school, she was rarely alone, always surrounded by kids in the classroom, or the hallways, or the cafeteria. At home, she was never alone, and never excluded- though she wished she could be- no, there she as always harassed, picked on, beat. A study in contrasts, she thought.  
  
She smiled though, and drew the blinds up, letting the light of the day come into her room. Then she took it one step further, and shoved the window open, letting fresh air in. She took a deep breath in. "Ah! Now that's much better!"  
  
She clamped her hand over her mouth suddenly afraid that someone might hear.  
  
She strained her ears, searching for sound, anything that might mark a precense in the house. There was silence.  
  
Grace let out the breath she'd been holding, and relaxed. The cooing of a mouring dove came from just outside the window. Grace stuck her head out, giddy with the newness of the day, and the pleasure of a day to herself. I might not go to school after all, she thought, after all, I never get a day off like this. Living in two separate hells, I think I deserve a day off.  
  
She grinned again, leaned further out the window and took a deep breath in of the fresh crisp air outside. Then she spun around with a squeal, shouting  
  
"Free at last! Free at last! Today I won't deal with anyone's crap!"  
  
The words bounced off her bare white walls, right back to her and out the window for the mourning dove to consider. But, Grace didn't care. She didn't have much of the day left, really, so she had to use what time she had wisely.  
  
She started by turning on the radio to a good station, and cranking the volume up. Then, opening her dresser drawers to find the perfect pair of pajamas- since she was still in her clothes. She planned on taking a long hot bubble bath. For this, she opened her closet, and buried beneath old dirty clothes (which were really a decoy) she grabbed a pail of bath goodies that were saved for such rare and special occasions as this. The stuff had never been used, because she never had had a day like this.  
  
"Whoohoo!" She exclaimed. "This rocks!" This is sooo cool!" She squealed. "yes!"  
  
She stood back up, putting her stuff on her rumpled bed.  
  
I'll make it later, she thought. No, wait, no I won't! She laughed then. I'm not spending a minute on anything I don't wanna do!  
  
"This is gonna be so cool!" She grinned.  
  
First the bubble bath, she considered, then. a huge breakfast- in front of the TV, she added, and then  
  
The door slammed open.  
  
Grace let out a yelp, and felt her heart stop in her chest. It only got worse from there.  
  
"So," he grinned nastily, "I was wondering when you'd wake up."  
  
Grace felt like fainting, and wished she could.  
  
Jason slammed the door behind him. "Don't you dare move!"  
  
He walked past her and pushed her window shut. " You can't get away from me anyway." Why didn't I see his car? She felt herself shrinking, and wished the window was still open so she could jump out of it.  
  
He turned around, satisfied with his trap, apparently, and grinned at her.  
  
"You can't get away, and it doesn't matter how much you scream- you can't fight me, and no one will hear you anyway."


	4. This is chap 5

Chapter 5 "Mrs. Camden!"  
  
She banged on the door with her fist. Like someone who didn't know how to use a doorbell. Like someone who was rude, and chose not to use one. Grace Foster knew the Camden's had a doorbell, she even knew what it sounded like, but she wanted to bang on, hit something. SO hit she did, with restraint. So that on the other side of the door, the pounding would sound like a knocking, albeit an urgent knocking.  
  
They don't realize how lucky they are, she thought, to always have someone home.  
  
When her fist stopped slamming itself into the wood, a belated act of self- defense, rage, and futility, she stepped back for a moment, worried.  
  
What if she isn't home? What if no one's home? Her mind whirled and the thought of her security and safety dropped. Where will I go? What'll I do?  
  
Oh she has to be home, she moaned, she has to!  
  
"Mrs. Camden!" She banged again, with less strength, whatever she'd had, suddenly seeming to drain.  
  
Hilary sighed, and with a piteous moan, leaned against the doorframe, exhausted.  
  
"Please be home," she whispered. Please.  
  
She was ready to crumple up on the porch and die, when the door suddenly swung open. Afraid she'd fall into the door, Grace jerked herself back, causing every inch of her body to scream in protest to the sudden movement.  
  
"I can't go to school today," she explained, looking penitent and miserable. I didn't even get a few hours to myself, she thought.  
  
She looked up, too tired cry, and she saw Mrs. Camden's horrified face staring at her.  
  
"Oh my god!" Annie ignored Grace's concerns about school, throwing her arms around Grace's shoulders.   
  
She winced in protest, and Annie quickly let her go and backed up.  
  
"Who did this to you?" She demanded, her face showing such outrage and concern  
  
Grace wanted to cry all over again. It was a show of affection she'd never seen in her life, and never would see. And they don't even know me, she thought.   
  
"What happened?"  
  
Not giving Grace a chance to speak, Annie authoritatively ushered her into the house, then straight to the couch in the living room.  
  
"I'm calling the hospital," she announced, " and going to get you some ice and bandages."  
  
Grace blinked, and suddenly felt the fuzzy yarn of the bathroom rug on her face. It was where, after Jason left, she'd felt most comfortable. Also, not having the emotional strength to hold herself up, she'd just lain there, hoping to die.  
  
She sighed, and looked at the white tiles. Then she slowly, slowly sat up, then grabbed on to the sink counter and pulled herself up to standing.  
  
The light from the bathroom mirror was harsh, and made Grace blink hard. Staring at her reflection she realized why she'd gotten that reaction from Mrs. Camden- she looked horrible, but still, not as bad as she felt. Usually, it's the other way around, she thought.  
  
Her lip was swollen and red, her nose covered in dried blood, her cheek was bruised, and her left eye was already swollen shut. She didn't need to look at the rest of her body, she knew there were bruises there, too.  
  
Standing close to the mirror, Grace carefully forced her eyelid open, fighting against her own body's inclination to keep it shut. She just wanted to make sure the eyeball was still functioning and intact. She knew what could happen, and knew what to do. Probably more than anyone else in school knew too. She'd been to enough doctors, and watched enough ER to know the basics.  
  
Grace sighed, and grabbed her "emergency kit" that she kept hidden behind her tampons and pads- so that Jason would never dare look and find it. She bought the contents of her kit just as regularly, as a precaution. She knew no one else would be able to take care of her, and she'd have to depend on herself- she always had before. Plus, she knew from experience she couldn't just go to the drug store looking like this- they'd call the cops.  
  
She took out antiseptic ointment, eye wash solution (that stung like hell), gauze, rubbing alcohol, and one strawberry sucker and placed them on the sink ledge.  
  
She washed and disinfected her eye and lid, then taped the gauze over it. Then she washed the rest of her face, applying ointment and bandage where needed, all without looking in the mirror.  
  
When she looked up at her new reflection, she saw a pirate, squinting, who looked like he'd been beaten to a pulp. Which was true, cuz she had.  
  
She shuddered, cold again.  
  
"Mrs. Camden?" She moaned, desperate to stop her before she got out of sight.  
  
Annie stopped and turned around.  
  
Grace shook her head. "They can't help me," she whispered, meaning the doctors at the hospital, no one can, she thought. "It looks worse on the outside, she explained, "but it's the inside that hurts the worst," she was near tears.  
  
"Oh sweetheart!" Mrs. Camden had tears freely flowing from her eyes. She ran back to Grace, and gently put her arms around her.  
  
"I just need you to hold me," she cried, gulping back sobs. "I need someone to."  
  
Mrs. Camden kissed the top of her head.   
  
"I don't want to hurt you," she offered, and looked at Grace for direction.  
  
Tired, Grace just did what she thought best. Laying across the couch, she put her head on Annie's lap, and stayed there. Taking her cue, Annie wrapped one arm securely around her chest, and placed her other hand on Grace's head, stroking her hair gently.  
  
"It's gonna be okay," she whispered, "It's gonna be okay."  
  
Secure enough, Grace finally cried, though it hurt awfully to do so. She needed some form of release.  
  
"I wish I could just stay here with you!" Her plea came out as a raspy moan. "I want to so badly!"  
  
"I hate it there!" She sobbed. "I just hate it! All of it!"  
  
"Shh," Mrs. Camden kissed her, "it's all right. I'm here. I'm not going to leave you. I'll be right here with you, for as long as you need me."   
  
"I wish you were my mom," she whispered.  
  
Mrs. Camden stroked her hair again.  
  
"When you feel better," she whispered, "I'm going to make some cookies and some lunch for us, would you like that?"  
  
Grace sniffled and nodded.   
  
Cookies, she thought. Cookies won't fix my problem.  
  
I wish it was real food and real cookies. I wish all of this was real. Then maybe she really could be my Mom. Maybe they really could protect me.  
  
She fell asleep, washed in her own tears, between a place where she was loved without question, unconditionally, and a place where she was hated beyond reason.


	5. weird

Okay, this is just playing around. It's a little too weird for me to do anything with I think. Just kind of a weird alternate reality type thingie based on some old thing I remember some scary idea (well it scared me at the time!) that if we create imaginary things in our minds they exist somehow in their own reality. I don't know, I was like five at the time, and some baby sitter was trying to scare me. Anyhow this is just for fun (although I'll probably get nightmares or something with my luck) I've had a really crappy week too, so frankly, I just don't care anymore!!! On with the weirdness-  
  
"Mom!"  
  
The wailing cry was the first thing that alerted Annie Camden that any of her children were awake. Well, they all are now, she thought. It wasn't so much the terror stricken call that surprised her, it was who had uttered it.  
  
No sooner did her shock register then she heard footsteps pounding upstairs, and in moments, pounding and stumbling down the kitchen stairs. In less than ten seconds Mary Camden, white faced, tousled hair and wide eyed was standing in the kitchen staring at Annie.  
  
A brief moment of confused clouded her face, and Annie imagined she wanted to know why her parents were both sipping coffee wearing the same clothes they'd worn yesterday.  
  
Despire the look of terror on her daughters face, Annie knew instinctively that it was nothing life threatening, and perhaps, she thought even if it was, after yesterday and last night, I don't have any shock left inside me.  
  
She shook her head to brush away the concern and hurried towards Annie, grabbing her by the shoulders for emphasis.  
  
"Mom!" She gasped.  
  
Too tired to rise from the chair Annie asked calmly, "What's the matter?"  
  
Mary was still catching her breath and shaky, more from fear, Annie knew, than from exhaustion.  
  
"I saw Grace!" She breathed, echoes of fear still held strongly to her features, especially her eyes. Mary Camden wasn't one to be frightened by much of anything, so that fact that she was at all disturbed didn't go without notice to Annie.  
  
"What do you mean?" She asked calmly.  
  
Mary took a moment to catch her breath, then letting a breath out slowly she explained, "I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth," she paused, closing her eyes as if recoiling in horror, she gulped. "And she was there."  
  
"Who?" Eric asked.  
  
"Grace!" She answered sharply. "She was there, in the mirror!"  
  
Eric looked at her calmly. "You got up still half asleep, and you thought you saw Grace"  
  
"In the mirror," he finished.  
  
"I did!" She insisted. "She was there!"  
  
"What was she doing?" Annie asked, ignoring Eric's 'are you crazy' look. After what she'd learned earlier and the discussion from last night, anything was possible- even the impossible.  
  
"She was putting makeup on," Mary was still a little shaky, and Annie put out her arm to steady her. Mary leaned against the chair and her shoulders instead, for support.  
  
"She had a black eye," she added in a whisper, "and all these other bruises."  
  
Annie cut a sharp glance at Eric. Then nonchalantly turned back to Mary and smiled.  
  
"We'll talk about this later," she told her. "Now I want you and," she raised her voice a few notches, "all the rest of you that are sitting in the stairwell thinking I don't know they're listening," she smiled, "to go back upstairs and get ready for school. Don't come down until you're completely ready. We're going to have a talk at breakfast."  
  
"But Mom!" Mary began.  
  
Annie shook her head and pushed her gently towards the stairs. "At breakfast," she insisted.  
  
Once Mary was out of sight, and they'd heard the footsteps of all their children obediently return up the stairs Annie turned to Eric.  
  
"What did I tell you? There's something strange going on."  
  
Which brought them right back to the conversation that drew them here, to the kitchen without any sleep. Back to that afternoon.

"Eric?"  
  
"Hey," Eric Camden smiled, kissing his wife on the forehead, as he came into the house. "It's nice to see you so eager to see me," he grinned, not noticing how she'd back away from his kiss the instant he'd kissed her.  
  
Annie shook her head and brushed his attempt at romanance aside with her hand.  
  
"We have a problem."  
  
His brow winkled in concern.  
  
"What is it?" He glaced around the room. "Are the kids home yet? Is everyone okay?"  
  
"Well I could tell you if you'd just be quiet and let me talk!"  
  
Her voice crackled with what would sound to most like anger, but Eric knew his wife better than that. She was frazzled and terrified. Eric tried to put his arms around her, only to be rebuffed.  
  
"Eric!"  
  
She let out an exasperated sigh and threw her hands up.  
  
The children are fine," she answered quickly, the house is fine, I am fine the only one who is not fine is that little girl, Grace-  
  
"I mean," her voice was shrill, "she is in trouble and needs our help!"  
  
"Slow down," he tried to draw her to the couch, but with no avail. He shrugged and sat down himself. "Tell me what happened. How do you know she's in trouble?"  
  
Don't patronize me, Eric!" She shot him a look, then moaned helplessly and leaned against the wall for support.  
  
"She came here today," her voice cracked, and Eric jumped up from the couch like he'd been shot, and rushed to her side.  
  
"Oh Eric," she turned back to him, leaning against him, tears fresh on her cheeks, "I hardly recognized her at first! She was black and blue from head to toe, and covered in blood!"  
  
She gave up then, and just cried in Eric's arms.  
  
Eric said nothing, he simply put his arms around his wife's shaking frame, and held her.  
  
Finally, Annie composed herself, and with a sniffle continued in a whisper, "She hardly cared she was hurt, she just wanted attention, she wanted me to hold her. Just wanted someone to care."  
  
She shook her head bewildered. "How anyone, anyone could treat their child that way that they'd be so starved for affection, that they can't go to their own families for help" she shook her head again, words seemingly inadequit for the thought sflowing through her mind  
  
"I just don't understand it," she said, finally.  
  
She stepped away from him then, and sat down on the couch.  
  
"Where is she now?" Eric asked.  
  
Annie shrugged. "I don't know Eric, she's just gone."  
  
"I got up to make some lunch and cookies- after taking care of some of her wounds of course- and when I came back, she was gone."  
  
Eric opened his mouth, but Annie motioned him with her hand and continued, "I checked the bathrooms, the girl's room, outside, everywhere. She just disappeared."  
  
"The same way she just 'appears'? Eric asked.  
  
"I never really thought about it, she's just here when she needs to be here."  
  
She looked at him again.  
  
"That's all I need to know."  
  
Eric shook his head. "I need more than that. We need to find out where this girl is from, who her parents are, right now we're not even sure of her name, or even her age."  
  
Annie gave him a grim smile. "I checked into that. While she was asleep I went through her purse to find some sort of ID. I called the police station and had them look up the information, as a special favor- I told them some of the details, that she'd been beaten and was in danger, might be a runaway."  
  
"And?"  
  
"The information I gave them, from her school ID, and her driver's license and social security card-"  
  
Eric let out a breath. "That's more information then either of us carry around. A social security card?" He stared at her.  
  
Annie nodded. "This is a girl who's prepared Eric."  
  
"Anyhow, they searched all their databases, the address doesn't exist, her school doesn't exist, even her social security number!"  
  
She and Eric had spent the night, and the morning trying to find information on Grace Foster. Eric had gone down to the station himself, but nothing had turned up.  
  
"Do you think she'd really have all those fake documents?" He'd asked.  
  
"Eric, she's not the kind of girl who'd lie about these things"  
  
He looked dubious.  
  
"She wants our help! Why do you think she came here- instead of anywhere else?"  
  
"We must know her somehow, someone at the church- anyone! How else would she know who we are?"  
  
Gathered around the breakfast table, the announcement kept running through Annie Camden's mind. "This girl does not exist."  
  
Eric took charge of questions, which Annie was more than happy to let him do.  
  
"I don't know," Lucy shrugged. "She's just Grace."  
  
She didn't tell you anything about why she was here? Where she's from?"  
  
All heads shook in unison.  
  
"She was really nice in the car," Simon offered, "she wanted to know what I was studying, and she taught Ruthie how to do a cat's cradle."  
  
Ruthie held up her hands, which were tangled in string.  
  
Simon's cheeks reddened. "She can do better," he explained, "she did it before, I swear."

"WE believe you," Annie smiled, and ruffled Ruthie's curls.  
  
"So," Eric began, "none of you found out where she's from, or even how old she is?"  
  
"Well," she's older than me," Simon grinned.  
  
"Dad, what's wrong?" Mary looked at him seriously. "Is there something wrong with her?"  
  
"No!" Annie answered for him. "We're just curious, that's all."  
  
The Camden children all exchanged knowing glances.  
  
Annie spoke up then. "Have any of you met her, seen her before?" She turned to Lucy.  
  
"What did she say to you the first time she came here? When she asked to see me?"  
  
Lucy gulped, and looked worried. "She said. she said she was here to see you, I think. That she wanted to see Annie Camden."  
  
Eric frowned. "What was the first thing she said? The moment you answered the door?"  
  
Lucy bit her lip and thought, looking down at her hands. Then her eyes lit up and she raised her face. "Hi Lucy!" She smiled. "At least I think that's what she said," she bit her lip again and shrugged apologetically.  
  
Annie pursed her lips and looked at Eric, then asked.  
  
"How did she know your name?"  
  
Mary stood up defensively. "Are you guys accusing her of something? Cuz if you are, she's one of the nicest girls I've ever met! Do you think she's some sort of criminal?"  
  
The back door opened then and Matt walked in the kitchen casually, grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter and bit into it.  
  
He chewed, looking around at faces silently, then swallowed before nodding back in the direction of the living room.  
  
"Hey, did you guys know there's blood on the front door?"  
  
Annie glared slightly at him and Eric rose to his feet.  
  
Matt shrugged and took another bite of apple. "Just thought you guys should know," he explained innocently, his mouth full of apple. "What? Did Ruthie get a bloody nose or something?"  
  
Mary's mouth dropped open as her brain pieced things together.  
  
"Mom," she frowned, obviously remembering the bruised reflection from the mirror, "was Grace here yesterday? And you didn't tell us?"


	6. part of 6

Why can't I just be me? Why is that never good enough? Even my best is nowhere close to good enough for anybody. Why can't someone just like me for who I am? Be just what someone wants? Me.  
  
I've tried being everyone else, and I was darn convincing, too! But it didn't work. Why? There must be some sort of fundamental reason, some flaw in my genetic makeup, something enormous that everyone else can see plainly, but me. A giant chromosomal error, guaranteeing that no one will ever, could ever like Grace Foster.  
  
She sighed, dejected.  
  
Pre-destined to a life of misery through no fault of my own.  
  
Grace leaned back against the bed frame, thinking. Thinking about her awful day at school, her life, the how and why things were the way they were. No matter how nice she was, how generous, how smiley, or pretty. It was a mental discussion that had occurred many, many, many times before, and as yet, try as she might, Grace had yet to come up with any reason other than fate, and her terrible luck.  
  
It was a blissfully rare time when she actually could sit in her room, quietly and think, undisturbed, without distractions.  
  
Of courser the beginning of things- looking back now, it was easy to see she was a mis-fit. She'd liked the term even as a young picked on girl, because it reminded her of the likeable cast offs of an old Christmas toy movie. She liked to think she wasn't the only one out there who didn't fit in. Because at that school, she was the only one who was truly such a mis- fit.  
  
"What a bunch of snobs," she muttered, remembering that on the first day of school at a new school in a new more upper class neighborhood, she'd arrived in clothes that were hap hazardly thrown together, not entirely mis matched, but not fancy either. And she hadn't cared. Had been oblivious in fact, And when her oddity was sorely pointed out with stinging laugher she was baffled that anyone would care. Don't hey have anything better to do, she'd thought then pick out clothes and go shopping? Wouldn't they rather go outside and play? Or reading a book? That was truly what set her apart, she could be happy alone, she had an imagination- and good thing too, as it turned out, for that new school, and the stigma she'd received after only that first day lasted her all through elementary school, and was made clear to all new potential friends in middle school, and now in high school stuck to her as plainly as her own skin.  
  
And elementary school, those were the good years, the years she was strong enough in self to not care. The years she still had a child's armor and imagination- for that would prove to be the only defense she had, and the only friends she'd ever get. As the years went by, her armor began to crumble, she learned how much exclusion and shunning could hurt, and how cruel children could be.  
  
I hate school, she thought, I really really hate it.  
  
The door opened then, and Grace looked up, not startled, as she would be if she were doing something important, merely annoyed. Her mother stood in the doorway still dressed in her suit from work.  
  
"Your brother says you got beat up at school," she observed.  
  
Grace sighed and knew even before opening her mouth it'd be like talking to a brick wall.  
  
"Well, the beat up part is right," she answered, "but it wasn't at school." She looked up and her eyes met her mother's. "Jason did it. He's the one that beat me."  
  
Her mother simply sniffed and shook her head. "I can't believe you'd say things like that about your brother!"  
  
She shrugged. "It's true."  
  
"If it is," she continued, "I'm sure you deserved it."  
  
She shut the door, and Grace could hear her footsteps walking away. Grace shook her head. Of course I deserve it, she thought, I deserve everything I get. She glared at the wall, and kicked it. She didn't feel miserable anymore- she was furious.  
  
To be continued soon, cuz there's more. I'm just being very annoyingly interrupted.


	7. 6 or 7 or something does it matter anymo...

"Why does everything always happen to me?" She mumbled, kicking the refrigerator door in frustration, then the cabinet next to it. She kicked the next thing closest to her foot, hard, and let out an anguished yell of frustration as she did so.  
  
With that done, she let out all her breath in a long exhale, her eyes falling on a basket of fruit and a plate of cookies. She felt calmer upon seeing them, but only a little bit.  
  
It didn't surprise her at all when Mrs. Camden came rushing into the room only moments later. Grace met her very surprised gaze and unleashed everything on her, without a second thought.  
  
"My life sucks!" She yelled. "Why does my life suck so much, Mrs. Camden? What did I do to deserve this? What?"  
  
She paced the kitchen as she continued her rant.  
  
"I hate my life! I hate the way everyone treats me! They either treat me like some unhuman beast, like I have no heart, no eyes and no ears, that what they say and do can't hurt me at all. It's hurts a lot!" A sob caught in her throat. "I wish I was dead," she mumbled.  
  
Mrs. Camden moved in to embrace her, but Grace quickly backed away.  
  
"No!" She yelled. "No!" She insisted. "A hug isn't going to help."  
  
"I wish it would, she continued. "I wish my life could just vanish away- I don't know why I have this problem- it's not the other people around me, they all get along with every single other person just fine, but not me. I'm cordial and generous and kind, and people detest and hate me. They dispeise me," she spat out the word with disgust and loathing. The problem is ME!"  
  
Grace looked at Mrs. Camden with tears in her eyes, tears of anger and hurt.  
  
"And I don't know how to fix it. To fix me," her voice was softer. "How do you fix me?" She asked. "How do you fix a broken person?"  
  
When she stopped for breath, gasping, her adrenaline was pumping so strongly off her hurt, Mrs. Camden stepped forward and spoke.  
  
She didn't wait for permission or argument, Annie simply started talking. "I don't know how you fix a broken person," she admitted, but I do know that you are not broken. When I look at you I see a very strong loving girl, who deserves to be loved in return and in abundance, trying to survive situations far beyond her control, and circumstances that she has not caused, but is through no fault of her own, a victim of."  
  
Grace stared at her, speechless.  
  
"I don't know what's going on in your life," she laughed to herself, "I barely know anything about you!" She walked over to the fridge, then turned and looked seriously at Grace.  
  
"But, I'd like to. I want to know if you like chocolate ice cream or vanilla, or chocolate fudge or caramel. I'd like to know you as well as the situation you've found yourself in." She opened the freezer door then, and to prove her point, pulled out a carton of chocolate ice cream, and another of vanilla. Annie held them both up, looking at her questioningly.  
  
Almost laughing, as this all seemed like some sort of game, Grace pointed to the chocolate.  
  
Annie smiled, put the vanilla back, and placed the chocolate container on the counter top. Then she opened the fridge, revealing chocolate syrup and caramel sauce.  
  
At that moment, Grace realized oh so happily that Annie honestly had her best interests in mind and genuinely wanted her to be happy, no more. And that was all. She didn't expect anything in return. She wanted to love her, or at least care about her, for that sake alone.  
  
And then, feeling every muscle in her body relax entirely, and suddenly feeling very tired, she sighed, and, as a test, pointed to both.  
  
Annie smiled, and without hesitation grabbed both bottle, then two bowls and spoons, setting everything at the counter.  
  
Without asking, and without being asked, Grace sat down at the kitchen table, facing Annie. Annie didn't complain, and didn't look bothered. She just continued spooning the ice cream.  
  
"Sprinkles, too?"  
  
Grace looked up, shocked. Annie was holding a can of multi-colored sprinkles, looking questioningly at Grace.  
  
This was generosity such as Grace had never seen before. She was baffled. All she could do, her mouth open in shock was say, "Uh."  
  
Annie took that as a yes, and in no time flat they both were sitting at the table, with bowls of chocolate ice cream, topped with chocolate and caramel and sprinkles, in front of them.  
  
Grace was thinking again about cookies and ice cream and the realities of her problems. As if reading her mind, Mrs. Camden interrupted with,  
  
"I know this isn't going to solve your problems, btu I was hoping it would give us a chance to talk."  
  
She's bribing me with food, Grace thought, with a small smile. Well, if it works, it works.  
  
She opened her mouth at the minute she heard  
  
"Hey, mind if we join you?"  
  
Shocked Grace glanced up and saw the entire Camden clan gathered in the kitchen. Now how did they get in here without me hearing them coming? She wondered.  
  
Annie smiled at her. "They can smell goodies a mile away.  
  
The food, Grace wondered, or the 'juicy story' of my life? She said as much aloud, to her surprise.  
  
"Either," Mary answered for them all, everyone taking seats or sitting on counters, all perched and ready to listen.  
  
Astounded, Grace looked at Mrs. Camden for guidance. Even Ruthie was in the room! She's a little young to be hearing this, she thought.  
  
"Well, if you want me to talk, I'm not going to censor anything. so, if you think they're a little too young.."  
  
Annie shook her head and waved the thought away. "The truth is the truth." She glanced over at Ruthie, "They're all old enough to hear it."  
  
"If you don't mind," Lucy added apologetically.  
  
Well, it'll save time in the long run- having to re-explain myself, that is.  
  
"Alright," she answered, "where should I start."  
  
"Uh, the beginning's good for me," Simon pipped up, helping himself and Ruthie to large bowls of ice cream.  
  
Grace smiled at the image, in spite of herself.  
  
"That could take a long time," she warned.  
  
"That's all right," Annie smiled, looking around at her brood, "we've got time."


	8. 8

"Hey!" "Hey Grace!"  
  
Jostled, dodging elbows and books, Grace's only intent was to get to the end of the hallway, to get to class. Well, really it was to get gone, but there was dream and there was reality, and the reality was she had to get to class. Why she wasn't sure. She never seemed to learn anything, she was more intent upon trying to be invisible hoping no one would choose to pick on her, and praying to god the teacher didn't announce, okay we're going to work in groups today.  
  
"Hey you!"  
  
A pair of hands shoved her sideways. Startled out of her reverie and scared, Grace looked up imagining her eyes to look akin to a deer's.  
  
She was looking at Bruce Edison, one of the rudest jocks (he's re-broken the leg of his fellow football player just for fun. The kid was on crutches and in a cast, but that didn't matter to Bruce, he wanted someone to harass. He was never punished.) and one of  
  
Grace's most dreaded enemies was standing in front of her.  
  
"Ooh, lookie! Grace's finally wearing makeup!" He made the words loud and sing song. Grace froze as the throng of students stopped talking and moving and turned around to look at her. Grace was mortified. Every pair of eyes was on her.  
  
"I think you put on a little too much! You look like a clown!" He laughed, "Or a prost-"  
  
Grace cringed and gulped.  
  
"Hey," Amy Hornek interrupted him, "we sure missed you in class yesterday! Where were you? We were worried!" She laughed hysterically and her clique laughed right along with her.  
  
Grace felt her cheeks growing red. She was so hurt and angry she could barely see, the masses in front of her were big blurs of nothing. Yet, she held her head high, and walked on without comment. What could she say anyway? What could she say that she hadn't said a million times before? That erase years of stigmatism? Nothing.  
  
The class bell rang, and the laughter and chatter of the students died down as they all hurried to get to their classes. Grace counted slowly to thirty and everyone was gone, the classroom doors closed. She let out a long sigh, and kept on walking, but she already knew she wasn't going to class. How could she? They'd all seen and heard the little altrication in the hallway, she'd never hear the end of it.  
  
Of course if she waited to go to class until tomorrow, she'd get it twice as bad. Damned if you do, she thought, damned if you don't.  
  
She kept walking trying to be as quiet as possible, down the halls. She knew where she needed to go.  
  
The door swung open silently, and Grace was thankful the room was silent. Just to be sure, she bent down and checked beneath the green beat up stalls. Not a foot in sight. As extra precaution, or maybe just to release pent up rage, Grace stood karate-style in front of each stall, and with a swift kick slammed each door open. She hoped no one in the halls or in the classroom heard, and for a moment, she was silent, waiting, holding her breath.  
  
Not a sound from the outside world. Grace let out her breath. She looked at the tan tiled room and drummed her fingers along the edge of the porceline sink.  
  
I can't go to class, she reasoned, but I can't stay here all day, can I? Maybe I'll move on from one bathroom to the next? Or just leave school. Find some way to sneak past security. But then where would I go? She shook her head. I can't go home, and I wouldn't want to.  
  
As a distraction, she turned on the hot water in one of the sinks, and grabbed a paper towel letting it soak under the water. Then with her face up to the mirror,, she ran the wet towel across her face, wiping off all the layers of makeup.  
  
When she'd gone to the Camden's the night before, she hadn't worn any makeup at all, and that had been the day of her beating. Or was it the day after? It didn't matter.. It'd been two days now since she'd been beaten, and she still needed layers of makeup to cover up the bumps and bruises. Her eye wasn't healing nearly as well as it should, and frankly, she was surprised Bruce hadn't commented on that as well. But, as she'd been joined by the Camden's children, excluding Matt, who was at work, none of them had stared or asked about the blood and bruises on her face- or asked why she was wearing a long sleeved shirt.  
  
She'd only gotten half way through her story, leaving out tons, but even still she was so disgusted that she stopped then and there and went home to sleep.  
  
It's one thing to have to think about my life when I'm at home, she thought, I don't wanna have to think about it while I'm there.  
  
She stared into her bruised reflection. Knowing that the one who'd done this to her was somewhere in the school, roaming free, to torture her another day.  
  
She hadn't told the Camden's all of it, hardly. Not even close. Yet somehow she suspected they knew.  
  
She turned from the mirror then, angry.  
  
"What am I supposed to do?" She asked the room, her voice echoing back slightly as the only answer. "I'm just supposed to stay here?" She pursed her lips, suddenly furious for a reason she wasn't sure of.  
  
"I get punished because my family life sucks, and my brother is an asshole? I get to suffer? How is that fair?"  
  
She shook her head defiantly, shoved off the wall, propelling her out the door. In the hall though, she forced quiet, her heart racing with fear. She knew what her solution was.  
  
She came to the double doors at the end of the stairwell, doors with only one class- shop- next to it. Doors that had alarms. But doors that led out to a thick near- forest, and a sidewalk to the road and the mall- the path that most people took Doors that led to freedom.  
  
I can't keep running away, she thought, I can't. But for today? I have to! A life like mine is plenty of excuse.  
  
With a glance behind her and a glance to the closed shop class door, Grace pushed open the doors, and ran- the blazing alarms sounding on her heels.  
  
She imagined being chased by flesh eating dogs, police, teachers, her classmates- any one was enough motivation to push her forward, running, running, running. Running so fast she was through the impenetrable brush and shrubbery and branches before any teachers had a chance to look outside.  
  
She didn't stop running until she judged she was about a block away- stil surrounded by dense trees.  
  
All her life she'd wanted to run, to escape, always wanting to be somewhere else. And now she was. She was free. No one knew where she was, or even that she was gone. No one would look for her. And no one cared. Which, again, meant she was free.  
  
Feeling slightly cold, and wishing she'd had more with her than a pen and notebook, for class which was now irrelevant, Grace sat down against a tree, thankful the leaves beneath her were plentiful and dry. She'd always wanted to run away- and get away with it- her whole life, and now she had.  
  
There was a tap at her shoulder.  
  
Grace jumped up, and yelped.  
  
Then she turned around her heart racing, she froze in shock at who stood before her.  
  
"Hi," she smiled. "I thought you might be lonely."  
  
Grace just stared in disbelief.  
  
"How did you get here?" She whispered.  
  
"I've got recess now," Ruthie shrugged. "And like I said, I thought you might be lonely."  
  
Grace just stared.


	9. 9

"It's hard not having people that care about you," she sighed, " and it's harder to have to- to have to imagine people saying nice things to you because no one in real life will. It really really hurts," she paused and sighed again, "and it's a horribly lonely place to be." She sighed again. "It hurts," she observed.  
  
"So, I was right?" Ruthie ventured. "You are lonely."  
  
Grace gave a small smile and let out a breath. "Yeah," she answered. "I am."  
  
"Do you have any friends at school?"  
  
She shook her head. "No."  
  
Ruthie stared at her amazed and confused. "Why not?" She demanded. " You seem nice to me, and Lucy and Mary both said their friends wanted to hang out with you that one time you went to school with them."  
  
"Really?" Her face lit up. "Well," she muttered "at least someone does, too bad it's only-"  
  
Ruthie looked at her seriously then interrupting with, "I know you're not telling me everything. I know you didn't tell my family everything, and maybe it was because I was there," she offered, "and that's okay. When you're ready and when you want to you can."  
  
"You make your family sound like some sort of 24 hour hotline," Grace laughed.  
  
Ruthie shrugged. "In a way, they kinda are. They're always there when we need help." They both sat in silence for a while.  
  
"I noticed you sigh a lot."  
  
Hilary sighed again, shrugged and nodded. "I guess so," she answered, " I can't help it."  
  
"I heard people only sigh a lot when they're depressed." She looked at Grace candidly.  
  
"I guess so," she answered again. "I know I do, and I've got enough reasons to be depressed, so it would make sense."  
  
Ruthie frowned in concentration for a moment then shrugged and sat up. "There's a lot of things I want to say to you," she bit her lip and paused trying to gather her thoughts, "but I'm not sure how to say them- yet. I have a lot of feelings about you and about your family, I'm just not sure what feelings they are, and what and if I should say anything."  
  
She pursed her lips, her eyebrows drawn together. She looked Grace over as if weighing a decision, then let out a sigh herself, and shook her head. "I can't say it now," she decided. "I'll have to wait and maybe say it later, when I'm sure of what I want to say." She looked uncertain and uncomfortable, and finally jerkily held her hand out for a shake.  
  
Grace took the offered hand and smiled warmly at Ruthie.  
  
"IT's okay," she answered, "you don't need to be thinking of me and my life- it's too much for someone your age to be thinking about. Go have fun! She ordered. "Go play! Don't worry about me," she assured her. "I'm just fine. I'm a big girl after all, I can handle myself."  
  
Ruthie looked doubtful, but nonetheless slowly picked up her bag walked away and was gone.  
  
Grace sighed and shook her head. "If that's true, then why do I keep running to the Camdens?"  
  
She looked at the trees surrounding her, and thought about all the buildings and businesses nearby, including the mall. She might be able to go there, she reasoned, without getting caught.  
  
She kicked at a pile of leaves.  
  
"Who am I kidding?"  
  
She sank back to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest resting her head on them, and wrapped her arms around herself. Grace sighed again. "Who am I kidding?"  
  
Raising her head she was relieved to see belongings that screamed their identity and belonging as strongly as the house they were in declared security and love. It was Lucy and Mary's room, their paraphenalia as instantly recognizable as the girls themselves.  
  
The bed she sat on was obviously Lucys' and the clean yet comfortable lived- in feel to their bedroom was soothing. Grace let out her breath slowly, and felt every muscle in her body relax and release its tension.  
  
"It's like a bubble bath," she whispered to herself, "or warm chocolate chip cookies." She smiled, unballed her body and lay back on the bed.  
  
"I can be safe here," she murmered. "I don't have to worry about anyone finding me," she explained to the nearest wall, "because if anyone does, all they'll do is care about me, worry, and maybe," she whispered the words, "just maybe, love me."


	10. 10

She hates me. She despises me. And I hate her!  
  
Grace shook her head, knowing she was lying to herself. She didn't want to hate her, she wanted to love, or at least like her. And to be liked in turn. She did nothing to upset the woman; complied with her every demand and wish, tried to be cheerful and courteous, and was thwarted at every attempt.  
  
Grace sat in her room- which wasn't really her room, as she was oft reminded, just a room she was allowed to occupy. As a result, in an effort to be inconspicuous she had no posters or adornments on the walls or in the room. Nothing but the absolute basics. Bed, dresser. That was it. Almost as bad as a jail cell.  
  
She sat on the floor, an open history book in her lap, but she wasn't reading. She relished history, English, anything that allowed her to escape. Into the past was as good as anything else.  
  
"Damn forks," she muttered, scowling at the tear blurred page. She sighed, which ended in a frustrated moan of despair. If she was" the whipping girl" at her mom's house, she was Cinderella at her dad's. No wait, she corrected herself, step-mom's. Cinderella before the ball, evil step sisters and all.  
  
She didn't get beat or yelled at her- but she got looks that were almost worse. Cold disgusted stares, peppered with biting disdain and criticism. She was rags, plopped down in the middle of riches.  
  
In that way, she preferred her mom's house, at least everyone there was on the same level- she was a nuisance, at least she wasn't looked down upon.  
  
"Why can't you have good clothes? Why don't you decorate your room? You could dye your hair, put on some nice makeup. Why are you always here? Don't you ever go out? Why are you always in your room? You're like a hermit."  
  
To avoid their words she stayed in her room, avoiding them all as much as possible.  
  
Tonight though she had to come out to help celebrate Rebecca's birthday. Sarah, her Step mom had brought out the fancy gold encrusted china, and had some catering service prepare a meal and cake.  
  
God forbid that woman cook, Hilary smirked and rolled her eyes.  
  
For her own birthday, she'd gotten store bought cake, served on old Tupperware dishes. She'd received a CD, a cheap makeup kit where the only color the stuff would turn your skin was green. Rebecca and the rest of them always got a spa trip, then a trip to Chicago for a clothes shopping spree. Hilary was always allowed for her 'party' to hang out in her room, undisturbed.  
  
Her father enforced rules on here that applied to her alone; no one else cared enough to say anything about them. They acted as though the rules imposed on her were Grace's own fault.  
  
"Don't leave the house after school, you may at no time have friends over, or talk to them on the telephone- on the weekdays or the weekends. You must be in bed by 9PM with no TV after 6.  
  
To break a rule was to get punished- a trait his son easily inherited. No one else got beat, and no one else had rules imposed on them. Jason didn't even live there anymore; being over 16 he could choose where he wanted to stay. At 15 Grace had no choice.  
  
She was even treated as an amusement park attraction by her step sisters. She was ridiculed, shown off to friends. And Grace had to take it. None of their friends had respect anyway, and apparently no brains either. One had insulted her, and as she warned him thinking have respect for his elders- he attempted to grope her. Grace'd knocked him out cold with a single punch.  
  
After that she was heralded as the monster, instead of the hermit. She was unable to take a joke, and was cold and heartless. How is disrespecting women a joke? She wondered incredulous. But, she couldn't expect her step sisters' friends to have any common courtesy or respect, when they themselves didn't. Like attracts like, she thought.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here."  
  
Grace looked up startled by the intrusion, and was shocked to see Mr. Camden in front of her.  
  
"I didn't know I was either," she answered. Looking around she saw that she was in fact, sitting on the floor of Mr. Camden's study, her history book still in her pal. Grace frowned, disgusted, and cast the book from her. It slid across the floor until it was hidden under Mr. Camden's desk, out of sight.  
  
Only then did she feel comfortable. She didn't want anything from her life to follow her here, ever.  
  
'You know," Mr. Camden began, "I'd like to talk to you."  
  
She stared at him, her stomach clenching. Oh no, he's gonna kick me out! "I'm sorry I keep showing up here," she explained, "I can't help it. I'm just here." She offered this in way of an apology.  
  
"No," he shook his head, "I'd just like to talk to you about things; family your school, things like that."  
  
Grace shook her head adamantly. Sure, Mr. Camden was nice, but like her father and brother, he was a man. Taunting and teasing was one thing both the women and men around her had done, but at least the girls, well, they could never do the other things that'd been done to her.  
  
"No offence, Mr. Camden, but I don't know if I want to talk about it with you." She stood up, her face full of regret. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just," she walked quickly to the door, "I have to go do something."  
  
She ran and ran, unsure how far the church was, but it didn't matter. She'd keep running till she found it. She just hoped it was still unlocked. She needed something that wasn't her life, that was a reminder of how sad and unnormal her life was. She needed. something holy.  
  
When she found the church she raced up the to the entrance, and yanked on the door. Thankfully it was open, and there was no one inside.  
  
Grace flung herself down on the first wooden pew, not caring that her feet hung off the side. After all, she didn't want to get God's seats dirty. She knew better than to put her feet on other people's furniture.  
  
She sobbed into her hands freely; glad there was no one to see her.  
  
"Why can't I have this?" She cried out. "What did I do? Or not do?"  
  
She gulped down a sob, and looked up to the ceiling. "Tell me!" She demanded, "So I can fix it! I wouldn't ask you to fix a problem that's easily solved, or that I could solve myself, " she explained, "but I don't know how to solve it! I've tried everything! I've tried nothing! If you could just tell me what to do, I'll do it myself. I'll solve my own problems and not have to bother you with them."  
  
After a moment of silence, Grace decided that God was as deaf to her problems, as everyone else in her life was deaf and blind to her existence.  
  
She wasn't sure how long she'd lain there, or if she'd fallen asleep, when suddenly something fell over her legs, and shouted. Someone, her mind amended. Grace pushed herself up to a sitting position. She saw Matt Camden struggling to maintain his balance and right himself.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He exclaimed, at the same instant Grace demanded,  
  
"Your dad sent you here, didn't he?" She was offended.  
  
Matt started at her confused, and shook his head. "No," he told me a little bit about you and your situation before. It seems to helpless, seemed like you needed some help."  
  
He shrugged sheepishly. "I came here to pray for you."  
  
She stared at him. Matt didn't really seem like the praying type.  
  
That made her slightly uncomfortable. She didn't want his pity. She didn't want to burden him with her life. But, she realized, that's exactly what she was doing, burdening this whole family's tranquility and happiness with her presence. With the reality of her life.  
  
Matt sat down in the pew in front of her, and turned back to face her.  
  
"Maybe we could talk instead? Dad only told me the littlest bit, but, I can't imagine anyone in my family, or anyone at my school treating my sisters that way-  
  
"I appreciate it," Grace interrupted, already thinking of Mr. Camden, her father, and her brother, "But no I'm sorry. I can't talk to you about this. I have to," she paused realizing she didn't know quite what she had to do next, she took a deep breath, realizing it, and finished, "I have to talk to someone else first."  
  
She found Mrs. Camden, alone in the living room sitting on the couch reading a book. Thankfully the silence of the house, told Grace she was alone. Good, she thought.  
  
Carefully, silently, she crept over towards Annie. She didn't want to disturb her, startle her. She hoped Annie wouldn't find her presence annoying.  
  
Wait a minute! Grace shook the though from her head. If this is some sort of dream, or even if it's not, I'm going to do this my way. She will want me here! She insisted.  
  
Without further hesitation, or more mental criticism as to her being unwanted anywhere, Grace sat down on the couch next to Annie, and with a sigh, leaned her head against the woman's shoulder.  
  
Unstartled, unruffled, and undisturbed, Annie turned her head, and without a word, kissed Grace's head, and put a strong arm around her shoulders.  
  
"You missed dinner," she told her softly.  
  
"I already ate," she whispered. "I got in trouble for using the wrong fork."  
  
Annie sat up straighter, making Grace sit up too, and looked at her with confusion.  
  
"The wrong fork?"  
  
"My step mom's a snob. Everything has to be right. She wanted this fancy dinner tonight, there were three different forks, I picked the wrong one."  
  
Annie just stared at her.  
  
"I didn't know you had a step mom," she breathed, "I didn't know your family was divorced." She shook her head apologetically. "I don't know much about your family. But I'd like to," she reminded Grace. "I'd like to know more about you."  
  
Grace shrugged, tired suddenly.  
  
"My step mom hates me," she answered. "Well, they all hate me, just in different ways for different reasons." She shrugged. "My mom hates me, probably because she blames me for dad leaving her. I was born to save their marriage." Grace let out a forced laugh. "I guess I failed."  
  
"And my dad," she continued, "he hates me because I'm a stain in his new perfect family. They'd be perfect if it wasn't for me. So he keeps me locked up in the house, so no one can see me or know that I live there."  
  
"My step- mom probably hates me for the same reason. I mean, it's okay," she insisted, " I understand. No one wants someone else's kid- it's like taking someone's cast off. It's not like I expected her to love me, or even like me. It's probably a good thing too, cuz if I was that disillusioned I'd probably end up devastated by the truth. I'm their unwanted charity case." She smiled ruefully, "I supposed it's a good thing I'm used to being disappointed."  
  
Annie Camden looked like she'd been slapped. She stared at Grace as though she were unable to grasp her explanations.  
  
"I don't believe it," she whispered. "I'd say you were exaggerating," she shook her head, looking ill suddenly, "but in your case, I have this horrible feeling that you're right." She looked Grace in the eye, tears rolling down her cheeks. "And that," she gasped, her voice shaky, "that just makes me want to cry!"  
  
Looking as helpless as a child, Annie flung her arms around Grace and sobbed miserably.  
  
Wow, she thought amazed, and shocked at Mrs. Camden's reaction, it's a good thing I didn't tell her the bad stuff!


	11. 11

Okay, there's more Camden related fun coming. Don't worry. And kids, as they say, 'don't try this at home!'!  
  
Matt, where are you? You said you wanted to know more. And your mom. Where is she? Come and see! Come and see, she begged silently, and save me!"  
  
"I didn't do it!" She pleaded, insistent. Jason made his way across her clutter-filled room (clutter filled for a reason- the clutter hid valuables and made access to her slower). Grace stayed semi crouched behind the side of her desk for protection.  
  
"I was all the way over at Dad's house!" Her voice was high pitched and loud in her terror. She felt so helpless she was sick and shaking. "How could I possibly have done it? I don't care about your stupid car anyway!"  
  
This day's terror was courtesy again of Jason's pointless mis-directed rage.  
  
"That's bullshit!" He yelled. "Who else would have done it?"  
  
Well, she thought, in an odd moment of humor, if you treat everyone else anywhere close to the way you treat me. I can think of a lot of people.  
  
He had a wrench in his hand, and suddenly he threw it, with all his strength, right at his sister. Grace let out a yelp, and quickly ducked and scurried away.  
  
The wrench sailed through the space she'd vacated and slammed into the window. The entire pane of glass shattered.  
  
Grace gulped and looked where the glass had been. Then she looked back at Jason. In that split second she strangely remembered why her windows were always locked- on the insistence of her mother, as protection from kidnappers. Grace grimaced at the thought. I wish someone would, she thought. Then she knew what she had to do. With one last look at Jason, Grace rose, scrambled to the window and through it and jumped.  
  
She landed awkwardly on the shingled rooftop below. As she was busy trying to think how to keep her balance and not fall to her death she heard Jason yell  
  
"She's out on the roof!"  
  
Her blood ran cold. She didn't know he had friends over. They'd tree her on the roof like a cat! Quickly scrambled nimbly across the side of the roof and over to the sloping garage roof. Shaking with terror Grace knew her only escape was to jump, and somehow make it to her Dad's house. But jump from where?  
  
Then she realized the steep slope she was climbing up sloped down as well, and that the other side of the house was lower to the ground. It's my only chance, she thought.  
  
Surprised she hadn't puked or fainted as sick as she felt, Grace carefully, carefully made her way down the rooftop.  
  
She heard the front door slam, and then heard boys loud laughter. Grace blinked. It would only take one glance to realize she wasn't on the front roof anymore.  
  
She slid down the end of the roof, barely managing to stop herself at the gutter's edge.  
  
Looking down at the brick patio beneath, Grace judged she was about 7-8 feet up. She heard Jason yelling to go around to the back of the house. Shit!  
  
If she hung off the gutter to drop down, the gutter might not hold- she'd fall backwards and crack her head open on the bricks. Well, just land on my feet and hope for the best, she told herself.  
  
Then, with a deep breath and a prayer, Grace crouched down, keeping her weight forward and jumped.  
  
She landed with her sneakers on the bricks with a bang. The force pushed her backward however, and she landed smack on her tailbone.  
  
Before she had time to consider her injury, Grace saw Jason and one of his friends coming around the side of the house. Hoping her legs still worked, Grace pushed herself up and ran for her life.  
  
Grace knew from experience that if she ran from her brother, she'd better plan on winning the race. It was bad enough to get a beating, it was worse still to get caught running from it.  
  
She didn't look back, but she could hear the boys running after her. Her only hope was to get to Dad's house- which was about a mile away.  
  
As she ran, Grace recalled another time she'd been called upon to be the entertainment for her brother and his friends- as no doubt, that was what Jason had planned all along for this afternoon.  
  
Jason had brought a group of friends home and said they'd all paid to see a fight. She'd shrugged her shoulders, uncaring, thinking how stupid it was to watch boxing or wrestling on TV. What kind of barbarian would consider it 'fun' to watch two men beat each other senseless? Grace thought it was horrible.  
  
She'd gone to her room, assuming the boys had somehow managed to pay for a Pay per View match on TV. And she's been wrong. Not fifteen minutes later, she found herself in a makeshift ring, pitted against her brother and his friends. She felt sparks of pride as the boys commented their surprise at her ability to remain standing so long. But mostly she felt punches.  
  
"She jumped off the roof!" Her brother's voice sounded behind her and brought Grace back to the present. His voice was laden with disgust.  
  
"She coulda gotten herself killed!" He yelled back to his friends.  
  
"You fucking bitch!" That was directed to her, she knew. "You get yourself killed, and I'd get blamed for it!"  
  
She kept on running. It seemed like she'd been running forever, but sadly, she realized she'd run only half way across the empty lot next to their house.  
  
"Hey! Wait! I've got a better idea!"  
  
Their footsteps stopped pursuing her. She didn't dare look back to see why. Her feet kept slamming into the ground, as she gasped for breath, adrenaline alone pushing her ahead.  
  
As she ran, Grace remembered that at one point, they'd had two cops living next door. Two men.  
  
"Gay," her mother'd announced, disgusted.  
  
Grace didn't care. She thought she'd be saved at last.  
  
That was three years ago. Her only chance at being saved, and she'd never been.  
  
I should have screamed, broken glass, done something, she admonished. Why didn't I? If they'd heard me, then I could have been free.  
  
Something hit her from behind. Suddenly she was falling forward just as she'd jumped off the curb to run across the street. Her own momentum shoved her forward even as she was going down. Then she felt knives stabbing into the backs of her calves.  
  
And then she saw Jason a few feet in front of her in the middle of the street riding on an old bike. She was still falling slowly to the ground, in slow motion. Just get it over with! She begged.  
  
And somehow it struck her as funny, that her brother, a senior, was riding an old kid's bike- especially when he was just sooo cool, and no senior ever rode a bike- they all had cars. But then she remembered his car. The tires slashed.  
  
I wish I had done it, she thought.  
  
Then her forehead crashed onto the pavement of the street. The noise was tremendous. She didn't feel pain, but there were funny lights now, and Grace laughed.  
  
"Looks like I crack my head open anyway," she announced, still giggling. But she wasn't sure the boys heard her. She felt tired. "G'night Matt," she sighed.  
  
And then there was darkness.


	12. 12

Okay, there were little page break things n' stuff, but for whatever reason I can't get them to show up on here. But you guys will figure it out. This story is sure taking some weird turns. Can't wait to get back to 'the fun stuff'. Soon though, like I said.  
  
She'd been sobbing in his office. Hard. Not as if from pain, but for the hurt inside her, the burden she'd born for years all by herself. The terrible ache and weight to it, starting to show it's wear on her. She'd gone through two boxes of Kleenex, nearly making herself sick with the force of her tears, with no signs of stopping. She hadn't said a word. Just cried and cried and cried.  
  
Eric jerked awake, breathing heavily. And he knew more strongly that Matt had been right. There was something wrong. :"I shouldn't have stopped him," he murmered, remembering the previous night when Matt had announced that something horrible was happening to Grace, and he'd grabbed his jacket, ready to go off and protect her. And Eric had stopped his son, with a hand to his shoulder, saying, "Where will you go? You don't know where she lives, how can you save her?"  
  
He remembered seeing his son earlier, in the bathroom, muttering at the mirror. "Mary saw her there once," was the only explaination he'd received.  
  
Shaking his head he whispered, "And maybe he could have? Who was I to stop him?"  
  
Annie stirred beside him. "Stop who?" She mumbled.  
  
"Matt," he whispered. "I should have let him go the other night. He was right. I know he was right. Something terrible has happened to her. We have to help her."  
  
Annie yawned. "I know. I'll take care of it in the morning. I'll find her."  
  
He stared at her. "How?"  
  
She pulled the covers over her head and her answer was muffled. "I'm a mother. I'll find a way." He heard her yawn again. "Mary saw her, Ruthie found her. She finds us. And everyone in this house wants to save her from her life." She turned over in bed. "I'll find her," she assured him.  
  
"Who did this?"  
  
Grace stirred, wanting the noise to stop so she could stay asleep. Constant noise, voices jumbled in and out all the time, threatening to break her out of conciousness. She wanted them all to go away. But this sound, this voice was shrill and insistant.  
  
"Who did this to her?"  
  
Grace moaned, tried to open her mouth but couldn't. It was as if her entire body were encased in cement. The voices were closer.  
  
"You have to let me see her!"  
  
"Mrs. Camden, you can't be in here, you aren't authorized-  
  
Mrs. Camden?  
  
"Authorized?" She snapped.  
  
"Visitors have to be approved of by the hospital staff and, in this case, the police."  
  
"The only people that will be "authorized" to be in here are the ones that tried to kill her!" Her voice was a near wail of rage. "The ones that are killing her right now. Have been for years!"  
  
"I'm sorry Mrs. Camden!"  
  
Mrs. Camden. Grace's groggy mind finally put two and two together, finally making out what was being said. Her heart leap with hope. Saved at last, she thought smiling. Then she heard the voices and footsteps going away.  
  
No! She shook her head, or tried to. Then desperately tried to open her mouth, to call out for Annie to stop. Don't go! Please! Stay here! Please!  
  
"She has a fractured skull, concussion, a pair of very damaged knees, torn ligaments and tendons at the back of her legs, and tailbone that's taken a beating."  
  
"Laymen terms?"  
  
"Mostly. But to be more blunt. This child has sustained numerous injuries that aren't readily explained. Not your typical 'school yard' injuries at that."  
  
"Just get the dept over here."  
  
"She's in and out of conciousness."  
  
Grace moaned, wanting to move. Feeling things on her that weren't supposed to be there. Things she wanted off of her. But for some reason she couldn't move. There was something on her head, something on her arm. she didn't like it. Not one bit.  
  
"She'll be asleep for a while."  
  
She sighed exasperated. Just go away, she thought, or get me out of her. Wake me up. Do something.  
  
"I'm glad we finally have a chance to talk."  
  
Grace just stared at him. "What else do you wanna know? It should be apparent now that my life is awful. Why do you want specifics? Want to know more? It all adds up to the same things."  
  
"It's not so that I can know, it's so that you can tell. Everyone needs to unload their burdens and have someone to help validate them for who they are, not their situations."  
  
Grace puckered her lips as if she'd eaten something sour. Uh, that's great Rev, she though. She chuckled inwardly. Must be getting' to the bottom of that well.  
  
He can't possibly want the whole story. Just the big chunks. Taking a deep breath, then sighing in resignation.  
  
"Fine." She answered. Then she took another deep breath.  
  
"My parents moved to a neighborhood where I didn't fit in at all., No friends at school, nothing. My brother started treating me awful and that was the end of my light. I tried to slit my throat when I was eight- and people said my life would get better?" She laughed harshly. "What a load of bull! Better? God, if this is good, better, I'd hate to see bad!"  
  
"Parents divorced when I was nine. Mom got the house. Dad got married to the Trumps. Mom started drinking. Jason started beating me. Dad hit me to, but when I actually deserved it. For a reason. Jason raped me when I was twelve. He's probably addicted to crack, for all I know, but I don't care. Nothing justifies treating other people badly. There ARE no excuses."  
  
"I have some sort of neon sign that keeps people away from me at school- when the 'cool' kids aren't making fun of me or something. At my dad's I'm dispised and ignored. At my mom's I'm a nuisance. It's a wonder I haven't gotten a gun and pulled the trigger." She let out a long breath, having recited her story quickly, as if it was all one sentence.  
  
"Okay, is that enough?" She blinked and moved her gaze back to Mr. Camden. Only, he wasn't there.  
  
There was a man in a too clean jacket, a doctor, she assumed. And a cop. Again she felt like her body was underwater, or encased in cement. But this time it felt cold, like ice.  
  
"You're lucky to be alive young lady." The man in the too clean jacket announced.  
  
Grace barely kept herself from laughing aloud, even with her diminished energy. Ha! She thought. Lucky. You call this lucky? I'm lucky to live like this? To be alive so I can continue in this nightmare? This isn't life. This is hell.  
  
A stern looking cop stared down at her, a notebook in hand.  
  
"Do you remember who did this to you?"  
  
"My," she swallowed, her voice sounding scratchy and soft. "My" she looked down, so tired and was thankfully wrapped in blissful sleep once more.  
  
When she stirred again she felt terrible pain. As if her body were on fire. But still she felt paralyzed. As if she couldn't move.  
  
"It's okay," he whispered. She felt a hand smoothing the hair back from her forehead. "They're gonna give you some medicine to make you feel better. It will let you sleep too."  
  
Grace moaned and opened her eyes. A smile seemed to crack her face with pain. But, she was happy. At last.  
  
She saw a smiling face and blue green scrubs. "Matt!" She called out, but her voice was a whisper. She stared at him, never breaking eye contact, hoping he'd know.  
  
"Hey," he smiled back. "We're gonna take care of you now."  
  
We? She was puzzled. We're at his work? Matt's hospital?  
  
What he'd said before registered with her, and she tried to shake her head no, she didn't want to go to sleep.  
  
"I was so tired," she whispered, "scared," she corrected. "You said..you said you wanted to see..."  
  
"She's talking in her sleep again."  
  
"No she's talking TO herself."  
  
"She's dilerious."  
  
"Go get one of the doctors."  
  
"Why didn't you come?" Then her eyes closed again and dark sleep carried her away.  
  
"He ran me over with his bike." She was answering a question she didn't remember Mr. Camden asking, but someone had asked it, she remembered, or, thought she remembered- so, she had to answer it. " His old mountain bike. He hit me with it, knocked me over," she explained, "then he ran over my legs with it. I hit the cement and," she shook her head in silent emphasis.  
  
"I don't know why, I don't know- I don't understand."  
  
She sighed.  
  
"We used to be best friends. Inseperable. We slept in the same room when we were little, and usually in the same bed- we were that close. He was my hero."  
  
Looking down to the floor, she sighed again, and it was an exhausted sigh. "I just don't understand why he hates me so much."  
  
"Honey, wake up, your mom's here. And your brother. Your daddy's on his way- "  
  
Daddy? She thought, they don't know me at all.  
  
She shook her head, still feeling encased. No not them, she wanted to say. Not them. I want Mrs. Camden! Not them!  
  
But she couldn't get the words out. All that could spill from her lips was, "Mom." Over and over again.  
  
"I'm right here Grace."  
  
No, not YOU!  
  
She could smell alchohol on her lips. And even though she was so tired she couldn't open her eyes, she could feel Jason in the room. She almost choked on the lump in her throat. No no no! She moaned. Go away! But the words couldn't find their way out her lips.  
  
"She's dilerious. That bump on the head."  
  
"Can't remember anything." "Will have to wait and see if there's more serious damage."  
  
"Very serious."  
  
"Painkillers."  
  
"Surgery."  
  
This time Grace felt the tear roll down her cheek, unable to move her hand to brush it away. She wanted the voices to stop. Just go away and leave her alone.


	13. 13

Grace paused the CD player and looked around discreetly. Was it too loud? Just because they couldn't see her headphones under her bandana, didn't mean they might not hear it. Of course it did mean she didn't hear them, and that was the point. Of course, the teacher was another matter. No one seemed to be looking at her, so she drew back into her own world of thought, the thoughts that had distracted her from her own distraction.

Did I trip? She wondered. She tried to think back. I ran across the yard...the lot next door...to the street...

She tried hard to remember from there. I jumped off the curb and...

She shook her head, unable to remember.

Grace looked up at Ms. Henne. Cluck cluck, she though, rolling her eyes and pinching her mouth to the side. What a bunch of nonsense. Boring.

A flash of memory came and she suddenly saw herself, remembered, being able to watch 7th Heaven uninterupted. Without worry that her brother would steal the remote, or having her mother come in and switch the tv off. The only interuptions were nurses coming in to check on her- she liked that- liked the idea that someone was caring for her- even if they were being paid to care. At least it was something.

The show had been about... the Camdens dealing with.... something. She didn't really remember. BUt she did remember thinking it was nice to know that their lives didn't revolve around her. Sighing contentedly, she looked around the room, seeing her classmates engaged in various shows and degrees of boredom.

They'd been nice to her, when she started back. I give it a week, she'd predicted. Then they'll go back to normal. No one really knew the details, and that was the way Grace liked it. She wasn't too sure herself. But she was pretty sure she didn't want to know. If she forgot something, there was probably a good reason.

It had been two days now, and she still saw no reason to abandon her original prediction. They all knew now that she could be injured, did bleed, maybe they'd start treating her like a person. But probably not.

She still walked with difficulty, sitting was still not the most fun thing to do- especially for 7 hours a day. It sucked. She'd have to wait a while too, before her hair grew back over the insision in her skull. If it grew back, she doubted. Gory details she hoped not to ever remember- like why the incision was there, and what they'd done to her. In the hospital they'd asked if she wanted things, procedures explained to her, her answer was always no. All she wanted to know was if she was going to get better. And their answer had been yes. That was all she needed to know.

They'd be nice to her, treat her as one might a fragile glass, then when that got old, they'd slowly slip back into their old routine. Fine with me, she reasoned, it's not like I'm not used to it by now.

At least she was allowed to bypass the normal school dress code and wear a covering over the exposed skin. A hat, a bandana, whatever. Today she chose a pink bandana to match her favorite Britney Spears-esque jeans- with pink stitching. She hid a diskman in her purse, the cord of the headphones under her shirt, and the phones under the bandana.

It was a wonderful distraction. It kept her from thinking. Thinking could be deadly sometimes. It made you remember. And whatever it was, Grace was sure she only wanted to forget.

"Hey!"

She barely heard the whisper, before a tap on her shoulder got her attention. Maybe it was too loud, she thought. She made sure the cd player was turned to stop and off before turning around. She almost screamed.

"Hi," Mary smiled. She nodded towards the front of the room. "Is she always like this? This boring?"

Grace just stared in shock.

Mary's grin widened. "What, you thought we'd forgotten about you?"

Grace was speechless.

Mary shrugged. "Well, I can see you're busy now. How bout if I come by later?"

"Uh..."

She nodded. "Later it is."

"Ms. Foster?"

"Ms. Foster!"

The sharp voice made Grace jump out of her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest.

"Huh?" She gasped, staring wide- eyed at Ms. Henne.

"Close your mouth please," she ordered, "you are not a fish."

Grace did as she was told. Uh oh, she sighed dejected. I'm gonna get it now.

"I asked you a question."

Oh. She quickly glanced down and re checked that her cd player was definitely off. "I'm sorry?"

"The question."

"Which was...?

"Just because you got your head cracked open, doesn't mean you have free license to day dream in my class. As long as your brain is functioning I expect you to pay full attention."

Grace was only mildly offeneded. More pissed off. And what about all the other students? She wanted to ask. The ones that have no excuse? The ones that never pay any attention.

"Right." She answered back, with a look and tone that said full well that Grace disdained her, and her ideas of a classroom setting. Her tone was calculated to be patronizing and bored. Ms. Henne's lips pursed and color was rising to her cheeks.

Ya know what? I might as well have some fun. I think I'm entitled to that much. everyone else does, after all.

"Ms. Henne," her voice was calm, " you didn't answer my question."

"Which was?" She was irritated.

Good, Grace smiled. "Which was, what was the question you wanted me to answer."

For a moment Ms. Henne was speechless. Grace took advantage of the oppertunity.

"Look who's not paying attention now," she smiled.

And scanned the board quickly. She wouldn't get a repeat of the question now. She needed a trump card.

"omniscient voice"

"omniscient voice," she answered, "is the use of the all knowing, god like powers, to tell what all the characters are thinking and feeling, which would not be able to be utilized in first or third person narrative voice. Although it should not be mistaken as an easy out, the focus on all characters in the story, that idea is a falicy that many writers fall into. Others just don't care."

Ms. Henne blinked.

Cluck cluck, Grace smiled. Then leaned back in her chair and turned her diskman back to play mode.


	14. 14

The walk home from school was nice. Well, not home she corrected, she'd stopped calling it that after the divorce. It was either Mom's house, or Dad's house- but never really home. She never felt welcome in either.  
  
When she opened the door, she was greeted with the sound of yelling.  
  
Ever since the hospital, and then, the hospital's bills- especially the hospital's bills, Mom had been even worse than usual. She took a break in her drinking and made up for it in yelling.  
  
Since 'the accident' had happened while Grace was on 'her watch', her dad's words, he wasn't going to help pay for the bills- even though he certainly had the money. But at least she'd been able to stay there while she recovered.  
  
Life at her dad's house after the accident was interesting. In a fashion. It was fun to watch her step-mom pretend to care, and her step-sisters as well. Especially around her dad. Grace took full advantage of all opportunity- even when she felt quite well. For a while she was unable to walk, and thus was restricted to bed. She soon had the TV in her room, DVDs, the best CDs, and full meals.  
  
Of course the special treatment could only last so long. Pretty soon she was picked on and complained about, just as she always had been. And then she was sent back to her mom's- since she no longer needed all day care.  
  
"But at least they pretended. Sometimes." Which is really worse? Or are they both equal?  
  
But all the money issues, the hospital bills, it was bound to stress mom out. And even though Grace felt nothing close to love for the woman, she still felt that it wasn't fair. Mom could barely make ends meet as it was, since she went from job to job. It might help if she didn't drink so much, Grace mused, but that was none of her business. Frankly, she didn't care what her mother did- as long as she stayed away from her. Grace shuddered and sighed. God, I hope I don't ever turn out like her.  
  
She walked down the hallway to the stairs and saw Jason and her mom in the living room, exchanging insults.  
  
Well good, she thought. Someone should yell at him. In fact, since he has a job, maybe he should be the one paying the hospital bills.  
  
Then she shook her head and walked upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the yelling, whatever they were yelling about, still bothered her. Her shoulders tensed, and she could feel her heart beating faster. She sat down on her bed and pulled the covers around her, feeling sick. She screwed her eyes tightly shut. Then something shatter downstairs and she jumped. Just go away. Leave. Or just shut up! She threw the cover over her head and shut her eyes tightly again.  
  
Now if I was over at the Camden's house, they'd probably have something cool going on. She heard a door slam downstairs. She shook her head at the interruption, then took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. On anything, on nothing. Just anywhere that wasn't there.  
  
Finally she let out an exasperated sigh and opened her eyes.  
  
"It didn't work," she whispered, totally bewildered. "Why didn't it work?"  
  
She tried again, this time with the covers off her head. Then she tried walking around the room, letting her thoughts wander.  
  
Finally she ended up in the bathroom, staring into the mirror.  
  
:"Where are you guys? You're always here when I need you, and sometimes when I don't."  
  
Grace bit her lip and stared hard into the mirror's reflection. "I saw you once, Mary- why not let me see you again?"  
  
"Mom! She's nuts! She's talkin' to herself! I think she needs to go back to the hospital!"  
  
Grace gasped and jumped back from the mirror. She spun around and saw Jason standing in the doorway.  
  
"Uh, I was just-"she shook her head. "Aw, hell, just leave me alone." She walked past him and back to her room.  
  
For once he didn't follow.  
  
She leaned back against the door and shut her eyes. "What happened?" She whispered. "What did I do wrong?"


	15. 15

She was sitting, one leg sticking out diagonal, the other bent and to the side, lying on the floor.  
  
Grace put another cookie in her mouth, and grabbed an afghan pulling it around her shoulders. She'd been shivering with cold for quite a while. And for no real reason either.  
  
Finally her mom and brother had stopped fighting about whatever they'd been fighting about. Then they left. And so she was alone inside the house. Usually when that happened, Grace relished the opportunity; turning on the stereo full volume to her favorite radio station or CD. She'd skip around the house, giddly singing lyrics out loud, pretending she had no problems in her life, and for a moment having none. Or she'd turn on the TV and watch all the old shows without having to relenquish the remote.  
  
But now, having returned from a full day of school, she felt like doing nothing. Just sitting in her room. Quiet. She'd be able to think. Something she was rarely at peace or able to do. And she didn't want to think.  
  
She felt like she'd been beaten to the floor. No, just plain beaten. Lying on the floor, because she had no other strength left to do anything else.  
  
Having the Camden's reject her was more than she could bear. The only people that cared about her- even if they weren't real. But at this point, sometimes, she doubted that. She really did. If it was just her own imagination- why did they show up when she wasn't even thinking about them?  
  
She remembered then how mental anguish could feel like welts. An accumulation of lonliness felt like having your soul scooped out of you. Being ignored felt like screaming inside a room made of ice. It had no effect. She felt alone. The daily weight was crushing her.  
  
"So, this is what your place looks like, huh?"  
  
Grace sucked in a breath, scared witless by the voice that sounded behind her. Icy with shock, she turned and looked behind her.  
  
She saw Lucy's open innocent face sideways- as the girl was upside down, or rather, half-way there, in between, poking her head around Grace's footboard.  
  
"Not too much in here," she observed, her face still smiling, cheery.  
  
Grace just watched her.  
  
She watched Lucy eyeball a boarded up window, and the specs of blood that were still on the wall.  
  
Grace said nothing at all. She watched Lucy's face wrinkle in confusion and thought and worry. She turned back to the wall she'd been facing. She sighed.  
  
"May I ask what you're doing here?"  
  
"Oh.". "I didn't think you'd mind."  
  
Lucy's face was in front of her now, open and smiling...and so..so....  
  
It was at that moment that Grace realized she was jealous of her. To be able to have such love, innocence, security.  
  
It wasn't fair.  
  
Grace shrugged in response. "It doesn't bother me."  
  
Lucy's mouth puckered, and she frowned. "I just came to say hi," she offered.  
  
"Came how?"  
  
"Are you mad at me?" She didn't answer the question  
  
Her voice was shaky, almost crushed. Grace thought how overly sensitive Lucy was, how fragile. If she had to live my life, Grace thought, and shook her head, she'd never make it. She'd be subordinate, and weak. They'd destroy her. Shit.  
  
"You have to go." Her voice was a breath, a reluctant command.  
  
"You want me to-"  
  
"I said go. You really shouldn't be here."  
  
"But"  
  
"Look, my life doesn't have an off switch, or a mute or a pause button. You can't be here."  
  
"It isn't safe." She added the last part reluctantly. "Not for you anyway."  
  
Lucy just stared.  
  
Grace felt deflated.  
  
"But you-"  
  
"I need help," she conceded. "I know." She nodded as if confirming the idea to herself. "I need help."  
  
She sighed heavily. "I really do."  
  
"Look, my mom and dad-"  
  
"Can't do anything," she finished the sentence for her.  
  
"It'll be fine, really. Go back home."  
  
Lucy frowned and looked around her again before locking eyes with Grace. "From what I know of you, what little I know of you, and your family," she shook her head, "I don't think so. If you need help, you're obviously not getting it."  
  
Grace shook her head. "It's fine."  
  
"No, it isn't!"  
  
She sighed. "You're just over-dramatic, Lucy. You don't know what things are really like."  
  
"Don't say I don't know! I do know! I may not have a brother who beats me to near death, or, or a mom who drinks herself to sleep- or a dad who ignores me- but I still know pain when I see it! I know hurt! I know what hurt feels like- because I know so much of what it is to be loved! I know that! I'm an expert at love! And I feel so lousy right now, just thinking of all the times I took it for granted- how easily I forget how lucky I am."  
  
Tears rolled down Grace's cheeks as she glared at Lucy, disgusted by her, hating her. "Shut up!" She screamed. "Just shut up! You don't know! You'll never know!"  
  
Lucy stepped close enough to bring them face to her, her own face as red and tear streaked as Grace's. "And you'll never know it- never! Unless you get out of here!"  
  
Lucy's words hurt, stung. Grace blinked, and felt as if Lucy'd just slapped her. I know what love is, she insisted, silently. I know what it is. Just because I don't get it, doesn't mean I don't know what it is. It's the lack of it that tells me. But I'm not heartless. I have a heart, and I do know what love is.  
  
And then she hated Lucy even more for saying that.  
  
She stepped away, shoved her away, shaking her head.  
  
"there's nowhere for me to go."  
  
"They'll kill you!" Her voice was a scream. "Your own family's gonna kill you!"  
  
"Overly dramatic," she rolled her eyes and switched the TV off. And Lucy was gone. There was only black.  
  
Grace blinked, surprised at finding dark before her eyes. She'd only just gotten home, hadn't she? It should still be light out...  
  
Then she remembered the last words Lucy'd spoken. Maybe she was dead. Died in her- Then the outline of her bed became clear, and she felt rough carpet under her cheek. She took in a gasping breath, running a hand over her face, just to make certain that she was really there and that it was all real. She felt wet. Tears.  
  
She looked around the darkened room. It didn't matter if anyone was home or not. She had to get out of there.


	16. 16

She was sobbing like a baby, but she didn't care.

"I just want someone to love me!" She bawled. "I want someone that does. Someone who really loves me. Just for who I am. Who isn't ashamed of me, or who hates me. I want someone I can talk to. Someone who will be really genuinely happy for me when something great happens. Someone who will hold me and give me hugs when I'm sad. A person that really loves me, no matter what. And always will!"

Grace gulped in a sob and sniffled snot. She figured if she had a mirror around she'd see that her face was bright red, and maybe her eyes bloodshot from crying so hard for so long. Thankfully there was no one around to hear her. For one thing, it'd be embarrassing. For another, they might try to take her back home. Most people thought a girl like her, especially if they heard her story, was a hysterical lying teenager just seeking attention. It would never and had never occurred to anyone that she might be seeking help.

Matt sat there, unjudging and patient. He waited for her to continue.

Grace sniffled. "You, you think Lucy's crazy, but you still at least act happy for her, even when she's happy about something childish or nuts. Even if it is half put-on, you do it because you love her. You may not agree with everything she says or does, but you still love her. And you show it every day."

"Even when you tease each other, or you fight...it's, it's so simple. You don't really hate each other. You'd never hurt each other."

She looked up at Matt and another heavy tear rolled down her cheek. "Would you?"

"No," he shook his head emphatically. "Of course not."

"Really?" "You can honestly say that you'd never hit Mary, or Lucy? Ruthie?"

She bit her lip, at the same time tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear, unknowingly exposing the still jagged scar across her forehead, where he knew, it trailed a good distance backward into her hairline.

"No!" He shook his head. "I may play hit, I may tease, but I know my own strength. There's nothing in the world that could make me hurt them. Never."

"I wish I was a part of your family, I really do. I wish that you were real! I want that to be true so badly it hurts. I wish I was a part of your family, so that you could all love me the way you love each other."

Matt was silent for a long time. Then he finally let out a deep breath and answered, "You know, you may not be a part of our family by blood, but I can say that we care about you. We want to be your family. Or, at least, to get you away from your own."

Grace bit her lips down over her teeth, so that they clamped shut in a straight line. She breathed in deeply through her nose and out again, then she nodded as an acknowledgment to Matt's statement. Then she stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"If you don't mind, right now I feel like being with your Mom." He smiled and nodded.

And then she was there. In not even the blink of an eye.

Annie Camden was lying in bed, her blonde hair falling part way over her face and closed eyes. She cradled her head on her hands that were pressed together as if in prayer. Grace smiled, finding the image sweet, like that of an innocent child. Annie's eyes opened. She didn't look tired, or surprised or annoyed. She just smiled and sat up, as if she'd simply been lying there the whole time, just waiting for Grace to show up.

She pulled Grace to her in a hug and held her tightly, then tighter for a long time. Then she sighed and released Grace, giving her an open bright grin. "It's good to see you again," she smiled still, "it feels like we haven't seen you in a while."

She choked her head to the side as if catching herself in the middle of a joke. She smiled again and asked, "What can I do for you?"

For a moment she was worried. To come all this way, wake her up just for this? But somehow it didn't matter. No matter what she did here, it would always be right. She bit her lip, and fidgeted in place a moment.

"I," she began, "I was wondering, if maybe, you had some of your chocolate chip cookies around?"

Annie's laughter rang out, and Grace felt happy inside, like she'd been tickled.

"Are you kidding me? With this bunch?"

Uh oh. She laughed again and slung an arm around her shoulders, standing up. "Of course!"

Grace smiled then and sighed, happy. It was nice to be in the house at night. It was quiet, and for some reason it felt special, confiding.

Annie pulled out several large cookies from the jar, then winked. With her other hang she pulled out a baking sheet. "They taste better when they're warm," she explained.

Again Grace smiled so hard she wanted to cry. Again with the enormous care and consideration. Not just cookies, but warm cookies. Not just warm cookies, but they were offered ungrudgingly, with a smile. Given happily.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Annie motioned her silent with her hand. "Now, let me do some talking," she urged.

After she placed the cookies in the oven, she sat down across from Grace, and the smile faded from her face.

"You haven't come to see us in quite a while." She ran her hand gently over Grace's forehead, where her bandage was. "I, we all, have been worried about you. Since the accident, the hospital."

"Matt came to see me." The words were out of Grace's mouth before she realized it, and she knew then that it was right. A memory from the hospital.

She smiled and nodded. "That's right, he did."

And then more memories flooded her brain. "I wanted him to- Jason was- he had a wrench.... Matt said he wanted to- I wanted him to-" instantly tears were again flowing freely from her eyes. She was crying hard. And then Mrs. Camden's arms were around her. Wrapped around, tighter than tight, holding her in, protecting her, loving her.

Grace gasped for breath between her sobs. "Mrs. Camden, why can't I stay here with you? I wanna live with you! I wanna stay here!"

She took a breath in and noticed her body was as shaky as her breathing. "I can't go home! I can't! No matter what, it's still not safe. I could go to my dad's but that's almost worse. Being ignored is almost worse than being hit. I know I should be grateful but," another torrent of sobs overtook her. "Please let me stay here!" She cried.

"So much for things getting better," Annie whispered. Then she began to rock Grace in her arms, back and forth, still holding her tightly. "Shhh," she soothed, "it's okay. You can stay here as long as you want."

She wanted to howl and scream and kick. But I can't! She wanted to yell. Wanted her to understand wanted all of them to understand, if they ever could. I wish to god there were people like you around in real life, people who were actually that nice and could afford to have a whole boarding house worth of people drop in whenever and have the money to clothe and feed and care for them all. Grace couldn't remember a time when the Camden's frige was once empty- even with all the people that lived in the house. How the heck do they do it? She wondered.

Annie'd no sooner taken the cookies out of the oven when Eric Matt and Simon came into the kitchen- all from different directions. Annie smiled at Grace. "What do you expect? The smell of cookies carries." Grace smiled back.

"Well, look who we have here," Eric was in his pajamas, and it occurred to Grace to be surprised that he hadn't woken when she woke Annie.

"Ya got some for us?" Simon smiled engagingly at his mother, who rustled his hair in return.

"Of course. I didn't think we would be the only ones down here, at least not for long." Matt sat down at the table behind them, saying nothing, but Grace could feel his eyes on her back.

Then they were all silently eating cookies. Not speaking, but just happy to be eating. "So, you back in school now?" Simon asked, maneuvering the words around the cookie in his mouth.

She nodded, still chewing.

"How's that going?" Eric asked.

She shrugged and swallowed. "Fine," she answered.

"Just fine?"

She shook her head in amazement. "How else's it supposed to go? Fine is good. It's better than" but she remembered Simon and stopped. "than other things," she finished.

"Yes, I suppose."

His tone disgusted her. I suppose. She crinkled her mouth. You can't suppose anything- you don't even know! Look at you! How could you? She wished he'd go away, like, now.

Lucy appeared at the foot of the stairs, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She yawned once widely, blinked, then nodded at Grace.

"Hi," she said.

She looked back at Lucy and could feel her face turn hard. "Hi," she answered back.

Her eyes still heavy with sleep, Lucy moved slowly across the kitchen, sitting next to Simon. Wordlessly, Annie handed over a cookie.

Grace frowned, feeling her time being completely infringed upon.

This isn't much like TV, she thought, her eyes fixed to a glare in the direction of the floor.

She really moving through the darkness as they all spoke. But they never knew it. She was able to evade their radar. She was able to eat and walk at the same time. So she munched a cookie to the sound of her rumbling tummy and listened to the Camden's talk.

She balanced precariously on the curb edge like a balance beam, for a moment not caring that she was running away, she wasn't afraid of being discovered. And through it all the Camden's were oblivious.

I am alone. In a room full of people I am still alone. I am invisible and unnoticed, not worthy of notice. I am the social leper. I am the girl who used to be called Grace, back at a time when anyone wanted to call me anything at all. The familial name, affection. Anyone knew her first name easily enough, but not just anyone knew her middle name. Grace. It sounded pretty, like the tinkling of a bell. It sounded free and open, full of possibility. Possibilities that were closed to Grace. Perhaps had never even existed.

Lucy was just beginning to say something to her, something she was sure she didn't want to hear, when suddenly her footing faltered and she stumbled careening through the air.

Her eyes met with Matt's across the table as she fell, and in that moment she knew that he knew. But then they were gone, and Grace flailed against air and caught nothing, and so crashed to the cement.

After the initial shock, she sat there unbothered.

In the darkness she felt safe. The vast canopy of black and shadow, of gray and dulled edges, appealed to her. Most likely she'd be sent to the custody of her father. She didn't want that. Or into the hands of a foster home. Knowing their reputation, she didn't want that either. At 16 one could be legally emancipated. That wasn't too far off. She could make due on her own. And she wouldn't be missed, or even looked for- she'd made certain of that. She'd be living in poverty, most likely for the rest of her life now, but she'd be free. Still, it seemed a high price to pay. She'd didn't know how long the feeling of safety would hold up against hunger pangs. She'd have no company but her own shadow, and her CD player- as long as the batteries lasted. The night air was chilly, and even with the blanket wrapped around her, she shivered. She was no fool. She knew she'd need several changes of clothing for school as well as warmth. But the clothing and blanket couldn't shield against the familiar inner chill, which hurt most at times like this. Oddly enough she felt barely more alone now in the wilderness than she did inside a house.

Anything's better than where I am now, she thought. Then she felt something inside of her snap, some tie, some connection that she had to…to something lose it's grip on her. And she knew deep down that she'd never see the Camden's again.

The End


End file.
